No Man's Land
by dildhadkanedo
Summary: Set in the world of The Outsiders.  Senior Kurt Hummel moves to and small Oklahoma town where he meets a gang by the name of Greasers.  He also meets various others, namely a certain Soc named Blaine Anderson.
1. Chapter 1

**_Based off of S.E. Hinton's 'The Outsiders.' _A year after Johnny and Dally's deaths. Set in the 1960s.**

**The Outsiders is my favorite book ever, it's the only book that I can actually stand to read over again.** **So, I thought a Klaine story based on one of my favorite books was worth my time, sooo..here it is! **Anyways, this first chapter was a bitch to write 'cause I didn't know how to begin it. Took me about a month to start working on it again! Anyway, besides that, hope you like! There's also a lot of cussing and whatnot in here, so...**_  
><em>**

**Anyway, you can just read now. Review****! Favorite! _Idk, Just read it!_**

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><p><em>'I'm sitting in the railway station<em>

_Got a ticket my destination_

_On a tour of one-night stands'_

The engine of a pick-up truck turned off as the passengers inside it reached their destination.

_'My suitcase and guitar in hand_

_And every stop is neatly planned for a poet and a one-man band_

_Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound'_

"Hey, Kurt! We're here!" Burt Hummel said to his barely-awake son, his announcement barely reached the countertenor's ears, however.

_'Home, where my thought's escaping_

_Home, where my music's playing_

_Home, where my love lies waiting_

_Silently for me'_

"Kurt, get outta the car and help me!" The slam of the car door resonated inside the car loudly, jolting the half-asleep boy out of his haze.

The annoyed boy grunted under his breath, shifting into a sitting position. He had a crick in his neck from the awkward angle he fell asleep in. Kurt stretched his arms over his head, cracking his back and neck, wincing at the sound of the pops. He finally looked out of the dirty window and at the big, imposing house in front of him.

A bitter feeling went through him at the sight of the new house.

He still didn't understand why his dad had insisted they move them from Lima, Ohio to this even smaller Oklahoma town. It's not that he disagreed exactly to coming here, Lima was a bitch to live in sometimes, but his whole life had been there as well. He had been glad to see the back of the homophobic town they lived in before, but for all he knew, this new town was even worse!

And it wasn't like Kurt was blatantly obvious about his sexuality, he looked (well, sometimes) and acted like any normal _straight_ boy, except that he was, y'know, _gay._ Some people back at his old school had called him 'gay' and 'fag' because he honestly did look a bit like a girl with his delicate features and his high-pitched voice. Like, there was this one time when he had been out with his best friend, Mercedes, and they had seen the most honest-to-god adorable girl in a little princess outfit. He had immediately squeaked out, "You're so cute!" The little girl promptly turned to him and told him he sounded like a girl.

_Well, that did wonders for my self esteem_, Kurt thought with an amused smile.

"Hey, dude! Get out of the car and help me carry your stuff in!" A hand slapped the hood of the trunk, shaking it and making Kurt squeal at the sudden movement.

He shot a glare at Finn, his step-brother, as he barreled out of the cool truck and into the blaring, hot sun. He was thankful he had coated himself with several layers of sunscreen before leaving.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me 'dude,' Finnegan Hudmel?" Kurt huffed, walking to his brother, but not making any move to help him lift his own heavy luggage. C'mon, he was delicate.

Finn grunted in response, making Kurt roll his eyes, his brother was such a _guy_, sometimes. Finn was going to college back in Ohio for his football scholarship. His girlfriend, Rachel - the diva of Lima, was heading off to New York. _Kurt's New York._

He finally helped Finn carry some stuff inside to his basement bedroom. Well, Finn carried the heavy stuff. Why should he carry all of it when he had a muscle-y quarterback at his wake? Finn would be back in Lima in two days - _back to where Kurt's whole life was._

Even if Lima _was _a homophobic town, he had live there forever. His parents were from there. He had met his best friend, Mercedes, in the fourth grade where they bonded over making fun of all the kids who thought they were 'cool' and over fashion. He had been kicker on the football team for one game, which they had _won, _thank you very much. He had almost been on the Cheerios, too for god's sake (though he didn't actually get to participate), plus - he had _rocked_ that uniform.

_It was where he had met Sam,_ he reminisced. Sam had gone to his school only for a month and it hadn't been a good month, either. He was the only kid who was…out of the closet, so to say. Even Kurt didn't have the courage to tell his own _parents _he played for the other team. Anyways, he was not thrilled about moving.

"You gotta suck it up, kid," Burt had told him when he had first tried to protest.

Well, at least he had gotten a bigger room and a car. He had basically threatened to run away if he couldn't have that. Kurt knew how to throw a hissy-fit.

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><p>"Damn, this town is <em>dead<em>," Finn mumbled from the driver's seat.

Burt and Carole had thrown the boys out of the house when they weren't helping unpack. Instead, they had followed each other around the house with Nerf guns, having an awesome game of Laser Tag without the actual lasers.

After they and broken the newly assembled coffee table, however, Burt and Carole had agreed that having the boys near more fragile items wasn't a smart idea. So, now they were cruising around in Kurt's Corvair, trying to find any cool places to hang out.

By now, after going around in circles, they had come to the conclusion that either everyone in the town were either super lazy or Finn's suggestion: Vampires.

"Dude, maybe they're like vampires or zombies that only come out at night to like feed and shit on the poor souls that are still up past midnight. Or the squirrels."

Kurt didn't point out that Finn stayed up 'til three in the morning most nights, just bit his lip to muffle his laugh. "Why would the feed on squirrels when they're in a town full of warm-blooded people?"

"I don't know, maybe their picky," Finn retorted. "Besides, this town seems too goody-goody to stay awake past eight."

The only place they found that housed some awake people was the local DX. Finn pulled over to gas sta- _**SCREECHHHHHHH!**_

Kurt slammed into the dashboard, losing his breath. Finn gripped the steering wheel harder, swerving to miss the on-coming motorcycle. _"SHIT!"_

The screeches of the tires was deafening, Kurt could swear everyone back in Lima could hear it. Kurt slammed into Finn's side as the larger boy finally got the car at a stop.

_"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL MAN?" _ Finn yelled over the sound of the radio and engine, flipping off the offender on the motorcycle.

The leather jacket-clad offender turned around in his seat and Kurt could see him cocking an eyebrow behind the helmet.

The ruckus had caught the attention of some of the DX workers. Some came out of the little shop and stood, surveying with their arms crossed. "Hey, what's goin' on here?" A sweet, honey-like voice yelled.

Kurt looked through the windshield, massaging his aching chest, at a gorgeous blond-haired boy who was walking across the lot towards them. If Kurt hadn't just seen him pull away from a tongue-war with that blonde, he would totally - _No!_ He didn't need to be running after another straight guy. Jeez.

The guy on the motorcycle just shrugged and said in a muffled voice, "Nothin', just gettin' gas."

Kurt turned to see the guy had gotten off his motorcycle and was letting the gas stand pump gas into it. He leaned casually back against it, acting like he hadn't almost caused an accident. _And also stealing someone's space,_ Kurt thought viciously.

"We don't want no trouble here, Soc," the DX worker shouted again at the motorcycle-ee.

Kurt was confused, _what did he just call him? _

"Get your gas and get gone."

Kurt could see the smirk beneath that helmet a mile away. "Yeah, and who's gonna make me?" He replied in a smooth voice, linking his hands behind his helmet. Kurt saw him open the little visor, but couldn't see his face from the angle he was in.

He could tell the DX guy didn't want to tussle with that guy; the sleeves of his jacket didn't hide his muscle, that's for sure. Hell, he was sure nobody would wanna get in a fight with him. The DX guy didn't reply, but Kurt saw his buddies gather and stand a little straighter, watching them silently. The DX guy looked back real quick at his buddies and when he turned back around to face the motorcycle-ee, he had a little smile on his face.

_What's he _- "Hey! Soc!"

Kurt jumped in his seat at the loud, authoritative voice. A rather small, but tough-looking woman was walking the distance of the lot, straight towards the guy on the motorcycle. Kurt saw the guy tense out of the corner of his eye.

The woman had a riot of curls atop her head and a stern look on her gorgeous face. She looked like she was a good five feet. He would tower over her.

She walked straight past the DX guy, getting straight in the motorcycle-ee's face. He immediately tensed and stepped a little ways away from her. "What're you doin' here, Anderson?"

The guy - Anderson - had an uneasy look on his face, like he didn't want to be there. Kurt didn't understand why. Anderson looked back at the group of DX workers and whatnot before turning back to the woman. "Why, have you suddenly forgotten your last name, greaser?"

Before Kurt could see it coming, a loud _THWACK _filled the silence. He felt Finn still in his seat. The woman had just _slapped him across the face!_

Kurt felt like cheering her on, but wisely stayed quiet. It seemed everyone else in the lot had the same idea, as no one had moved, though there was shift in their stance. They seemed a bit surprised as well.

"I don't want you here," he barely heard the woman say. Anderson just glared at her in response.

Kurt felt a little scared for the tiny woman as Anderson stepped closer to her. He saw his mouth move, but couldn't hear what he was saying. It certainly had hit home because he saw the tiny woman tense up a little before taking a step back.

Anderson got back on his motorcycle, having removed the nozzle for the gas a while ago, he revved the engine. It filled the air with dust, but Kurt could see that he hadn't moved from his spot.

"I'm really sorry about him, guys," the woman was at the driver's window now, looking a bit guilty and sorry. "Those Socs just don't know when to end with it."

She had said the last part loudly, no doubt making sure Anderson heard. Kurt saw him turn around and looked at them sitting in the trunk. It seemed like the first time he had actually noticed them. He raised his hand in what Kurt thought was salute, but undoubtedly wasn't. Kurt's jaw dropped open as the motorcycle drove away.

_The swine had just flipped them off!_

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><p>The song I used was Homeward Bound by Simon and Garfunkel.<em><br>_


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so I feel like I should clarify how Kurt is in this fanfic. He's like season2!Kurt, with the hair-do and everything, but his fashion sense is a little (okay, _a lot_) subdued. He still dresses as fierce as ever, but it's less risque-y 'cause, mind you, he's still in the closet so he's got to keep up that façade for himself. You can imagine whatever you want on him 'cause I probably won't be describing outfits for anyone much. **

**I also made the school colors the same as McKinley 'cause the book never talked much about the school Ponyboy went to. So, it's basically going to me very McKinley-esque 'cause I don't have enough imagination to plot a whole new high school.  
><strong>

**Also, this is supposed to be set in 1966, but I might stray a tiny bit from all the research I did for this, just for tiny little purposes. So, if you see anything that isn't in that time frame, forgive me, but I wasn't even alive then, so..  
><strong>

**Okay, y'all can read now.**

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><p>"I really am sorry about that," Beatrix said <em>again.<em>

Kurt rolled his eyes, waving off yet another apology. They were sitting in the shade of the store with the tiny-curly-haired-spitfire. After Anderson had left, she had immediately waved them over to apologize and introduce them.

_"My name's Blair," she said, handing Finn and Kurt two coke bottles. "But if you value your life, you will never call me that."_

_So, apparently they were only allowed to call her "Beatrix." Kurt withheld asking why anyone would have such a name, another wise move._

_The DX worker who had faced down with Anderson was Soda. _How many more people have weirder names in this town? _Kurt thought. That thought was instantly squashed when another dark-haired boy said his name was Ponyboy._

"So, anyway, who was that guy?" Kurt asked Beatrix, swirling his can of coke, watching the condensation drip.

Steve, Soda's best friend, coughed a little at the question. Everyone suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable. Beatrix rolled her eyes at all of them and said, "That was Blaine Anderson, the resident douche-bag of the West side."

This started another bout of coughing from Steve, who had choked on his coke intake. "You okay there, big guy?" Beatrix patted him on the back.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Steve mumbled under his breath, his coughing ceasing.

"Anyways, Anderson's a Soc," Beatrix continued, keeping an eye on Steve.

"What's a Soc?" Finn piped up, looking as confused as Kurt by the name.

"It's short for Socials," Two-Bit offered. "Y'know, the 'popular' kids."

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Why do you call them that though?"

"'Cause they're stuck up assholes," Steve snarled, his lip curling up in disgust.

_"Steve!"_ Ponyboy chastised.

"So, you guys really hate them..." Finn mumbled, still confused as ever.

Beatrix slammed her coke bottle down so hard it made Kurt and Finn jump. "They're the scum of the earth!"

Kurt saw Ponyboy flinch a bit at that, Soda looked at his brother with an apologetic expression. _Hmmm..._

"Yeah, there are only a handful of Socs we can actually stand," Two-Bit added.

Kurt and Finn looked at each other discreetly, eyebrows cocked in surprise. Damn, who knew a small town like this had so much drama?

After a long moment of silence, Finn asked, "What's so bad about them?"

It was like they had all been scandalized. Beatrix glared at Finn. Two-Bit's eyebrows rose so high they almost disappeared beneath his hair. Steve rolled his eyes at them, as if they were a bunch of little kids. Ponyboy looked uncomfortable. Soda just looked a bit confused, like how any could ever confuse the Socs with good guys.

"What?" Finn asked confusedly and turned to Kurt. "What did I say?"

Kurt just shrugged at him, just as confused. They hadn't been getting real answers from Beatrix. "Hey, he called you something, too. I forgot what…"

"He called me a greaser," Beatrix supplied, taking a sip of her coke.

Finn and Kurt looked at her expectantly. She sighed and said, "He called me a greaser 'cause that's what I am. What we all are," she indicated the other guys around her.

"The hell's a greaser?" Finn said.

"A hood," Soda said with a rakish smile.

_"...Oh."_

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><p>The next morning found Kurt in his bathroom, slathering himself with various lotions and moisturizers. He was humming the words to a Beach Boys song along with the blasting radio that rested on his nightstand.<p>

They hadn't finished packing yet. Kurt had done about 1/3 of all that needed to be unpacked for his room. Just looking at the many boxes turned his mood sour. Oh well, maybe he'd just get Finn to help. Or probably do it all. Whatever.

_'I'm pickin' up good vibrations._

_She's giving me excitations._

_I'm picking' up good vibrations._

_She's giving me excitations.'_

Kurt sang along loudly with the radio.

_'Close me eyes, she's somewhere closer now._

_Softly smile, I know she must be kind. _

_When I look her in the eyes,_

_She goes with me blossom world.'_

Suddenly, a deeper, but in-tune voice decided to sing along.

_'I'm pickin' up good vibrations._

_She's givin' me excitations._

_I'm pickin' up good vibrations_

(Oom bop bop good vibrations)

_She's giving me excitations_

(Oom bop bop excitations)

_Good good good good vibrations_

(Oom bop bop)

_She's giving me excitations_

(Oom bop bop excitations)

_Good good good good vibrations_

(Oom bop bop)

_She's giving me excitations_

(Oom bop bop excitations)'

Kurt jumped in his chair, using his moisturizer as a shield. "Finn! What the hell? You don't sneak up on a guy like that!"

"Jeez, sorry, dude!" Finn threw his hands up in defense.

Kurt sighed and turned back to his mirror, resuming his morning routine. God, maybe he'd get some real privacy when Finn finally left for college.

"Dude, it's already almost nine! Mom said you need to leave or you'll be late for your first day of _**a brand new school!**_" Finn basically screamed that last part in Kurt's ear.

Kurt swatted Finn away, rolling his eyes at his brother. He was not ready for his first day at this new school. He had woken up late, completely throwing off his daily moisturizing routine. He hadn't even had any coffee yet! and on top of that, he had an annoying brother who kept reminding him of it. Ugh, this day was going great.

He threw on his jacket, flipping off Finn on his way to his door. It was the first he actually noticed how late it was and how late he was going to be if he didn't get to his car and fast. He grabbed a bagel and his coffee that Carole had made him (bless her, really). "Bye, dad! Bye, Carole!" He kissed each their cheeks and dashed out the front door.

He was about to start his car when - _knock._ "Holy shit!" When he turned to look out his driver window, he instantly glared at the brown eyes staring back at him. "What the fuck, Finn? Did we not just talk about surprising me like that?"

The brown-eyed giant merely raised his eyebrow and motioned Kurt to roll the window down. "Did you forget something?"

"What are you talking abou-" Kurt broke off when Finn raised his arms, his eyes trained on the items hanging off them. He felt color rising in his cheeks and down his clavicle. He took a deep breath and said, "Give them to me."

Finn shrugged, a smirk playing on his face as me played with the strap of Kurt's book bag. He was spinning Kurt's car keys on his finger. "I don't know, dude. You were pretty rude to me this morning." With big puppy dog eyes and a pout, he continued, _"It huwt my feewings!"_

"Goddamit! Finn, I'm gonna be late!" Finn merely raised his eyebrows. Kurt huffed angrily, "Fine. Jeez, I'm sorry, okay? Can I have my stuff?"

Finn smiled in approval and nodded, passing Kurt his book bag and car keys. He resisted the urge to flip Finn off again, instead turning the key in the ignition. He backed out of the drive, singing along to the end of the Beach Boys song with the radio.

_"Na na na na na, _

_Na na na. _

_Na na na na na,_

_Na na na._

_Do do do do do,_

_Do do do. _

_Do do do do do,_

_Do do do."_

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><p>Kurt slammed his locker door shut, juggling his books into his book bag. He hadn't arrived especially late, but he had had only 3 minutes to get to his class that morning. His Math teacher had been late herself so he didn't have to worry.<p>

Everyone in the school seemed nice enough. In truth, it was just like McKinley. Everyone had their own clique, their own lunch table to sit at, their own little group of friends. The jocks were big, bullying, douche-bags, not unlike McKinley. The cheerleaders were snotty, looking down on everyone, not unlike McKinley's Cheerios. There were the geeks, the wannabes, and just the plain nobodies. It was just like any other high school, but Kurt couldn't help but compare every aspect of his day to his three years at McKinley. He barely paid attention in any of his classes because of this.

He only had one class left for the day: English. It was one of his easiest classes, an easy A. Now all he had to do was find the classroom. The map on the back of his schedule didn't help much because he had still gotten lost when he had tried to find the gymnasium.

"Hey, excuse m-" Kurt fell to the floor in a heap, another body landing on top of him. his breath got knocked out of him as the unfamiliar weight shifted.

_"Shit!"_ A voice cursed, the body finally moved off of Kurt.

Kurt opened his eyes to find a Latina girl brushing herself off. She flipped her hair out of her face,smoothing it down while helping Kurt off the ground.

Kurt mimicked her and brushed himself off, grabbing his book bag off the ground. He crouched down to help her pick up her scattered books off the ground. "I'm sorry, I was in a hurry. If I'm late for another class, I'll be thrown off the cheerleading squad and I do not need more baggage like that on me. Like seriously, who does that train wreck of a principal think he -" She cut herself off.

"Never mind, you probably don't wanna hear about my lousy day," she mumbled.

Kurt threw her a once-over. She was in a red and white cheerleading outfit, her hair was in a poor excuse for a ponytail, and there seemed to be bags under her eyes. "It's okay, I think I know what you mean."

The girl smiled a little at him. "My name's Santana."

"Kurt," he replied, giving her a handshake. She cocked an eyebrow at the firm grip.

"You new here?"

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "First day here."

"Yeah, I figured," Santana shrugged a little. "Or else you would have run the other way when you saw it was me you ran into."

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "I'm the queen bitch 'round here," she explained. "Most people would rather hang off our school statue by their underwear than face my wrath."

Kurt laughed a little, he liked this girl. Then he remembered why he had been rushing. "Hey, do you know where Mr. Syme's English class is?"

Santana gave him another white-toothed smile. "What a coincidence. It's right on the way to the gym."

Kurt laughed a little again at her comical expression. He bowed a little, holding a hand out as if he were asking her to dance. "Well, then Miss Santana, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to said English class?"

Santana giggled a little, then threw her hair back, going along with it. "Why I would be delighted to, Mister Kurt."

They laughed at their antics.

While they were walking Kurt found out that Santana lived on the East side (or as she referred to it:"the wrong side of the tracks") with the greasers so it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him when she confirmed that she _was_ a Greaser. And since Kurt lived closer to the East side and the West, they exchanged phone numbers and addresses.

"Do you know Beatrix?" Kurt asked. They were at his classroom door now, students were still bustling through the hallways, trying to make it to their classes.

"Bea? Oh yeah!" Santana smiled widely at the mention of the name. "She's one bad-ass biatch."

Kurt laughed. "I agree."

After another minute of talking, Santana finally excused herself to get to the gym. "There's going to be a pep rally this Friday, you should come!" After Kurt agreed, she ran all the way to her class with a little wave.

Kurt pushed open the door to his English class and quickly stepped inside so the herd of students filing in too wouldn't trample him. _Jeez, they must take their education very seriously_, Kurt thought.

He walked over to the teacher's desk in the front of the room. "Mr. Syme?"

A middle-aged, blonde man turned around. He smiled at Kurt. "Kurt Hummel, right? My new student?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, that's me."

"Here's the syllabus," Mr. Syme handed Kurt a packet of stapled papers. "And you can sit right over there."

Kurt sat in the seat Mr. Syme had indicated which was in the back, but in front of the last chair. He swung his book bag onto the seat, letting it hang against the back. Students kept on filing into the room until most of the chairs were taken. There was tons of chatter until the bell rang loudly overhead. Kurt held his hand over his ears until the noise stopped.

Mr. Syme cleared his throat, getting the students attention. "Let's start off with a pop quiz!"

The entire class groaned simultaneously, Kurt included. Just what he needed on his first day.

Before Mr. Syme could even pick up the little test papers, a loud bang made everyone jump in their seats. Kurt looked over at the door to see someone standing in the doorway. The guy had on a leather jacket, a beanie, and sunglasses. _Indoors? _Kurt thought with a grimace. _How tacky._

"Thank you for joining us, Blaine," Mr. Syme said with a scowl. "Take your seat."

Kurt didn't even bat an eye at the name, having temporarily forgotten about what went down yesterday.

"Sure thing, Mr. Syme," Blaine replied in an overly-gushy voice. Kurt could practically feel him roll his eyes.

Blaine stomped through the rows of desks, stopping at Kurt momentarily to stare him down. Kurt cocked and eyebrow and glared at the sunglasses-covered eyes. Blaine smirked and scoffed a little. Kurt thought he was moving on to sit somewhere else, he was surprised when Blaine slammed his book down onto the desk behind him and slumped down in the seat.

Mr. Syme stared down at Blaine for a moment, confirming the boy wasn't up to anything before continuing with passing out papers.

Kurt felt a tug on his jacket. He narrowed his eyes and turned on his bitch face before turning around. "Yes?"

Blaine smiled crookedly, it was a cocky smile, Kurt could tell. Blaine then proceeded to pull his beanie off his head and his sunglasses off his face. "Just wanted to re-introduce myself after yesterday. I bet Blair has told you great things."

"Who the hell is Bl-" _Ohymfuckinggod! _

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><p><strong>The song I used is Good Vibrations by the Beach Boys.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**I feel like this chapter sucks, which it probably does. I didn't want to start right away with the big stuff, so here is what I could come up with at the least. **Plus, this one's going to be short.** This chapter is mostly just to introduce Blaine, no matter how short it is.**

**Also, another thing: the way I choose the music for the chapters is very random. I just go through my list of songs from 196 and pick one that i like. I would like to actually find a certain song for a certain chapter, but I don't have a lot of songs in this list so... just telling you guys that the songs don't really have anything to do with the chapter. It's just the music Kurt's listening to at the time. **

**Enjoy yourselves.**

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><p>Blaine stared at the suddenly wide-eyed boy. "Hello? Anybody home?"<p>

Kurt slapped away the hand that was waving in front of his face. "I'm fine, Anderson."

Blaine cocked an eyebrow at the use of his last name. "So I get that Blair has already gotten to you."

Kurt snarled at the insinuation. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Blaine nodded his head as if he'd gotten his answer. "Sure you do. I bet she told you _all_ about me. Or at least what she thinks about me."

Kurt glared at him. "And why should she be wrong?"

Blaine suddenly got all up in Kurt's face, leaving barely any space between them. His cinnamon-y breath washed over Kurt, who gasped and shrank back. "'Cuz she don't know _squat_ about me. And neither do you."

Kurt and Blaine stared down each other until Mr. Syme noticed them not taking their tests. "Mr. Anderson and Mr. Hummel, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

Blaine tore his green-born eyes away from Kurt's glasz ones, he smiled dryly at the scowling English teacher. "Not at all, Mr. Syme."

Mr. Syme finally turned away with a threatening glare. Blaine shot Kurt one more cocky smirk before hiding behind his test.

"Cocky bastard," Kurt whispered under is breath, turning back to his test as well.

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><p>Kurt pulled open his front door after getting back from school only to trip and fall headfirst onto the foyer floor. "Ugh, what the <em>fuck<em>?"

"Oh, sorry dude. I meant to move that," Finn walked into the foyer, surveying the mess Kurt made of the previously neatly stacked suitcases.

Kurt pulled himself up and off the floor, grimacing when he felt his foot catch in one of the handles of a suitcase. he carefully pulled his foot out, glaring at the bags. "What is all this?"

"I gotta get back to Lima!" Finn yelled from somewhere far away. He had dropped another suitcase in the foyer and hurried away to the kitchen.

_Oh yeah, _Kurt thought, remembering his brother was only supposed to stay for two days. Damn, now who would he have to hang out with after school? No offense, but Santana didn't seem the kind of girl to lay around playing video games all day or having random sword fights in the livingroom.

He lumbered his way into the kitchen, throwing his bag on the couch. Finn was stuffing his face with a bag of potato chips, a can of soda in the other hand. _Well, there's something I definitely _won't_ miss, _Kurt thought scrunching his nose up in disgust.

He grabbed some orange juice out of the fridge and slumped down into one of the chairs around the table. Finn finally noticed his rather unexcited mood and was concerned.

"Kurt...you okay?" He asked hesitantly, knowing what Kurt's hissy-fits were like.

Kurt sighed deeply, pulling his glass of juice away from his face. "You know that dude on the motorcycle yesterday? The one who stole our gas?"

"Yeah...?"

"Well, he's in one of my classes," Kurt said with a pout, draining his glass.

Finn's eyebrows practically disappeared behind his hair. "What? He's a high school-er?"

Kurt pulled his arms over his eyes, feeling very tired. "Apparently."

Finn shifted uncomfortably from his perch on the counter. "Well...did he recognize you?"

"Yeah."

Finn waited a few seconds in case Kurt supplied more. When he didn't, Finn sighed and pushed himself off the counter. "What'd he say to you?"

"Nothing really," Kurt said, and it was true. Blaine hadn't really said anything _rude_ to him per se. But still, the guy just gave him a bad vibe.

"Beatrix doesn't like him," Finn said.

Kurt nodded, he was think about that, too. Blaine didn't seem to like Beatrix either. _Hmm_, Kurt wondered, _what's the story there?_

_"_I wonder how they know each other..." Kurt mused.

"I don't know, maybe they knew each other when Beatrix was still in high school?" Finn suggested, scratching hiss head. He hadn't thought of that when he'd been listening to Beatrix talking shit about Blaine._  
><em>

Kurt pushed the thought, he didn't need to think about Blaine or Beatrix when his brother was getting ready to leave. "Need any help packing?"

"Nah, I finished," Finn waved off the offer.

They sat in uncomfortable silence until Kurt finally said, "Wanna go play video games?"

* * *

><p>Blaine wrapped a towel around his waist and exited the shower. His wet hair was hanging in front of his face and sticking to his forehead, he hastily shoved it off his face. He just finished football practice and was tiredmor ethan ever. <em>God, can't Bieste loosen up?<em>

He stomped over to his locker, picking up his clothes. "Hey, Puck," he greeted his best friend.

"Hey, Blaine," Puck was lounging against his locker in nothing but a towel, talking away on his phone.

Blaine had already gotten on his pants and was slipping his shirt over his head when he finally asked what the hell Puck was doing.

"Santana's telling me how she made friends with this new kid," Puck said, covering the mouth piece with his hand.

"New kid? You mean Hummel?" Blaine asked.

'Yeha, I think that's what she said his name was. Karl or Kevin or -"

"Kurt," Blaine supplied, grabbing his backpack and hauling that heavy bastard over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Puck agreed. "That's his name."

"Did she tell you anything else about him?" Blaine kept on with the questions, fiddling with his lock.

"She said he was from Ohio and that his dad owns that new Tire and Lube store," Puck replied, relaying what Santana told him.

"Anything else? Do you know why he moved here?" Blaine said, now fiddling with his keys.

"I don't think so," Puck said, shutting his phone after saying bye to his girlfriend. He turned to stare at his friend. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," Blaine said, dismissing the comment. He was just curious about the new kid, that's all.

"Whatever dude, I'm too beat to play video games tonight," Puck replied, walking to his car, Blaine following close behind. "I gotta get home and sleep. My bitch of a science teacher gave me extra homework for '_acting up,'_" he said the last two words with air quotes.

"Alright, man," Blaine waved to his friend form his car. "See ya tomorrow."

* * *

><p><strong>So, yeah...pretty boring. Anyway, Finn leaves for Ohio, but I'm not writing about that. And I don't want to have to do that just for the sake of having a longer chapter 'cause you'd guys probably get bored. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer...Anyways, hope you enjoyed!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**I had to re-do the end of the second part and the last part 'cause I accidentally clicked the FaceBook button when I was typing this up. Ugh, deleted everything I added. I think I almost started crying 'cause it was perfect and I lost it all. Anyway, I fixed it! Enjoy!**_  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>'I got some troubles but they won't last,<em>

_I'm gonna lay right down here in the grass,_

_And pretty soon all my troubles will pass,_

_'cause I'm in shoo-shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo,_

_Shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo Sugar Town'_

Kurt groaned from under his covers. His limbs were thrown askew under his comforter which was twisted around his body like a cocoon. "Nnnghh..." Kurt moaned, sticking his head out from underneath his comforter. He immediately hissed at the light spilling into his room from the window. He wrestled his hand from his bindings and slapped it down onto his radio alarm clock, ridding him of the voice of Nancy Sinatra.

"Kurt, sweetie, it's time to get up!" Carole yelled down the stairs.

Kurt rolled his eyes and flopped himself back down onto his bed. His comforter folded itself onto his face. _I'll get up in a second_, Kurt thought pathetically,_ just five more minutes._

_**A Couple Hours Later:**  
><em>

_"Kurt!" _Kurt screamed as his comforter was ripped from his body making him fold into himself at the sudden cold.

He groaned in agitation. "What the fu-" he stopped dead in his words when he met the stern eyes of his step-mother.

Carole raised an eyebrow at Kurt's use of language. "Did you forget you had to be somewhere today?"

Kurt paused before answering, wary of Carole's mood. "Is this a trick question?"

Kurt ducked away before Carole started yelling at him for sleeping. He found refuge in his en suite bathroom. He slumped against the wall and huffed, making his bags furl against his forehead. He had checked the time before running away from Carole, he'd make it just in time for his last two periods. "Might as well get ready."

He had almost finished his entire moisturizing routine before he realized Nancy Sinatra's voice was booming from his radio, playing the same song he had set for his alarm.

'If I had a million dollars or ten,

I'd give to ya, world, and then,

You'd go away and let me spend,

My life in shoo-shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo,

Shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo Sugar Town,

la-la-la-la to end'

* * *

><p>"Whoa, what happened to you, Lady-face?" Santana giggled, raising an eyebrow at Kurt's appearance.<p>

The counter-tenor obviously did not enjoy being made fun of. "Shut up, San."

"You look like hell!" Santana continued, ignoring Kurt's warning. She surveyed the boys appearance. In fact, he did look horrible. His clothes weren't ironed and he was slouching - something Kurt Hummel never did. And he was wearing huge sunglasses indoors. From what bare skin the sunglasses left bare, his skin looked sallow.

"I woke up late okay!" Kurt hissed, slamming his locker door closed. He hadn't had much time to fix himself 'cause he could feel Carole giving him the evil eye through he door.

"I can see that," Santana quipped, giggling more until Kurt gave _her_ the evil eye. "Sorry. Why did you even bother coming? There's only one class left."

"My mom's scary," Kurt replied, smirking. Santana giggled again. "What did I miss this morning anyway?"

Santana bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. "Nothing much. Just a bunch of stupid jocks holding up everyone from getting to their classes."

Kurt gave her a confused look, one that said she needed to tell him _everything._ Santana sighed and continued. "Two idiots were fighting in the halls."

"Who?"

"Anderson and Karofsky," Santana replied.

"Who the hell is Karofsky?" Kurt asked but before he could get an answer out of Santana, he was pushed roughly against his locker. _"Fuck!"_

Kurt felt the ridges of his locker press into his back, leaving scratches deep enough for blood probably. He slid to the ground, cursing whoever it was.

"Watch where you're going, fag," someone spat at him. Kurt was still flinching from the pain in his back to look up in time. When he did though, all he saw was the back of a guy in a red sports jacket.

_"That _is Karofsky."

* * *

><p>"You will be required to do a project on a book of your choosing. The project can be anything, a book report, you can do a skit, a short movie. Whatever, as long as it fits the criteria," Mr. Syme was passing out papers with the requirements for a project the whole class was required to do.<p>

"Damn, is he serious?" Kurt heard a voice hiss behind him. Blaine Anderson stomped his foot hard against the ground, clearly not enjoying the concept of doing a project.

_He probably thought he could sit back and not do any shit during his senior year,_ Kurt thought. _Well, too bad._

Kurt rolled his eyes and ignored his whines. He other things on his mind. Like what Karofsky had called him.

_Fag._

He was sure that nobody knew he was gay, so why the hell would Karofsky call him that? He though back to what Santana had told him.

_"Karofsky calls everyone fag," Santana said, waving her hand as if it were an everyday thing. "Probably because he's gay and it makes him feel better by putting other people down for it."_

**_THUD!_**

Kurt lurched in his seat, flying up a couple inches. His desk tilted itself, about to fall until Kurt grabbed it and set it back to it's original place. The entire class was staring at him now, he felt himself heat under their gaze. To ward off the attention he turned back to Blaine and stared at him accusingly. Blaine lifted his hands in apology. _Yeah, right,_ Kurt thought with a sneer.

"Mr. Anderson and Mr. Hummel, is there a problem?" Mr. Syme raised his eyebrows, not happy about being interrupted.

"No, not at all, Mr Syme," Kurt replied, playing up the charm.

"Kiss up," he heard Blaine whisper behind him. Kurt's foot traveled against the floor until it found Blaine's right leg against his chair legs and promptly kicked him in the ankle. _"Shi-"_

Blaine shut himself up just in time because Mr. Syme was still staring at them. He bit his lip, willing the pain from the kick to go away. _ Fuck you, Hummel._

Mr. Syme finally turned away from them, resuming whatever it was he was doing. Blaine glared at the back of Kurt's head, cursing him over and over in his head.

"I'm going to pair you up into partners for this assignment. It is due at the end of the year, since I know you probably won't start reading let alone actually start working on this project right away. Better to give you all as much time as I can."

Mr. Syme began calling out names, pairing up students for the project.

"Kurt and Brittany."

Kurt looked up as his name was called. He didn't know many people yet so he wondered who this Brittany was.

_"Psst,"_ Blaine lamely tried getting Kurt's attention, but if Kurt heard him, he gave no indication.

Blaine huffed and scooted up in his chair, getting right behind Kurt's head. He cleared his throat and - **_"YO HUMMEL!"_**

Kurt lurched in his seat, squealing a little. His desk didn't fall over though, but he was tempted to throw over _someone's_ desk. He spun around in his seat, glaring viciously at the boy behind him, this time ignoring the stares his classmates were giving them. "What the_ fuck_ is your problem?"

Blaine shrugged, putting on a mock innocent face. "Just letting you know your partner's trying to get your attention."

Blaine pointed his thumb in the direction of the tall blonde sitting next to him. "Hi, Kurt. I'm Brittany!" Kurt smiled at the seemingly-nice girl and returned the greeting. "Hey, do you wanna go over to my house tomorrow and start on the project? I'm not very smart so if we want a good grade, we should get started soon."

"I don't believe that, but sure," Kurt replied while Brittany scribbled her phone number and address down, Kurt did the same.

Brittany turned to Blaine. "Who did you get paired up with?"

"Puck," Blaine smiled. He and Puck were best friends, so it was safe to say that not much progress would be made on the project and they would surely fail.

Brittany smacked the curly-haired boy on the shoulder. "Don't goof around, Blaine. You don't want to fail English during your senior year, do you?"

"Don't worry, Britt," Blaine reassured, glancing at Kurt. "Beside, you're probably gonna too busy with Hummel to remember to be worrying about me."

"I'll never be _too_ busy," Brittany replied, a smirk on her face.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the flirtatious behavior. He could've guessed Blaine was straight, but something hadn't seem right about it. Well, he _had_ seen him maul a blonde girl in the car park yesterday, but _still._

_Why do I even care? If he's straight, he's straight, If he's gay, the he's - _Kurt sneaked a peek at Blaine. Brittany and Blaine were sitting closer now and the girl's cleavage was practically in the boy's face. _ Yeah, he's straight.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Kurt popped a fry into his mouth. "So, what exactly happened this morning when I wasn't at school?"<p>

"Nothing much," Santana replied from her perch at her vanity. "Karofsky made some remark about Anderson's sister and Anderson just blew up in his face."

"Who's Anderson's sister?" Kurt asked, playing with the frayed edge of Santana's blanket. He looked up when she didn't answer. "Santana?"

Santana was holding apiece of paper with a little smile on her face.

"Ooohhh, Santana's got a love letter," Kurt teased in a sing-song voice, sidling up to the Latina. Before he could look at the slip of paper though, Santana stuffed it under her butt, sitting on it.

Kurt cocked an eyebrow at the child-like behavior. "Santana...what are you doing?"

"Nothing," she replied quickly. Too quickly. "It's nothing."

"Mmmhhhmmm," Kurt smirked, but decided to let it go.

"Britt told me that you're her partner for an English assignment," Santana said, trying to change the subject. She grabbed her hairbrush to smooth-en out tangles while hoping she sounded nonchalant.

"Huh?" Kurt mumbled, walking back to the bed, falling face-first into the clean sheets. "Oh yeah. We talked to other for a bit until Anderson interrupted."

Santana let out a fake chuckle. "Yeah, they're kinda inseparable."

Kurt raised his head from the bed. "What?"

"They're dating," Santana said, her voice full of disgust, tossing her hairbrush back to where it was.

"They are?" Kurt said, somewhat surprised.

_Well, guess I was right, _Kurt thought back to how flirtatious they were during class and wondered why he hadn't put two-and-two together.

"You don't seem too happy about them dating," he said. He saw how her face turned up into a snarl when she told him, she obviously wasn't happy about it.

"He's not good enough for her," she replied, as if that explained it all.

Kurt chose his next words carefully. "Why isn't he good enough for her?"

"'Cause he just isn't!" Santana spun around to face the countertenor, forgetting her cover. "He's a total jackass to everyone and I don't get how he ended up with someone as awesome and nice as Brittany! I mean, even you think he's a total douche-bag! Most of the school does, too."

"Yeah, you're right. I don't like him very much," Kurt said, sitting up. "But why don't _you_ like him?"

"'Cause he's a total ass-wipe!" Santana said, throwing her arms out as if to say it was obvious. "All the jocks are! They think they rule the entire school just because they throw a ball around a field and tackle eachother. _Big whoop!_"

Kurt eyebrows were so far up his forehead they disappeared beneath his hair. "Are you sure that's all this is about? Blaine not being good enough for her?"

Santana crossed her arms, done with her tirade. "What else could it be about?"

"I -" Kurt didn't know who to phrase what he was trying to say. "Do you - I mean, I don't mean to be - Are you and Britt-"

"Kurt," Santana stopped the countertenor's ramblings. "Are you trying to ask me if I l-like Britt?"

Kurt was silent for a few moments before he nodded.

"I'm confused," she said. "Honestly. I mean, I love Britt and all. She's been my friend sine preschool. I live on the East side and she's on the West and you know you don't befriend someone on the East side if you wanna keep your reputation intact,' but she didn't care and she chose to sit next to me and she became my best friend and-" Santana stopped her own ramblings, gathering her thoughts and taking deep breaths.

"I know I like boys, but they tell you that when you're a teenager, it's the time of experimentation. But then they go and tell you that being homosexual is wrong and I'm just so _confused,_" Santana's voice cracked at the end. She slumped back into her chair, dropping her face in her hands.

Kurt sat silently at his perch on his friend's - no, _best friend_ (Mercedes will just have to deal with him having two) - bed. He ached for her. Society was so messed up _everywhere._ All of them - fucking hypocrites. Telling you you're beautiful one second and then telling you you need to lose weight in another second. Or saying that liking this or that is weird. Or liking someone on the same gender was unnatural but then saying that love had no boundaries.

Kurt learned not to pay attention to any of that bullshit, but not everyone was like that. Especially Santana. She was a teenage girl and image is everything when you're still a kid.

He slipped off the bed and crouched next to his friend. He hesitantly touched her knee, wanting to comfort her. "San?" She didn't reply. "Santana, there is nothing wrong with being gay. Or bisexual, even."

Santana tried to get up, not wanting to have this conversatino right now, but Kurt pushed her back down in her seat. "Santana, listen to me. Please. It's okay to be confused about who you are. You're a teenager, you're not supposed to have everythign figured out."

"Well maybe I do!" She exclaimed, pulling free of Kurt's arms. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with all these - these _feelings_."

Kurt was quiet, letting Santana get out her feelings. When it appeared that she had nothign else to say, he sat her back down again. "I'm gonna give you a piece of advice that was given to me: It doesn't matter who you're attracted to, it ultimately matters who you fall in love with. It's all about love."

He removed the Latina's hands form her face where she was pouring her tears into and turned it up so she was looking at him. She had dark tear tracks on her face left by her mascaraand her eyes were puffy. "There's nothing wrong with liking Brittany. There's nothing wrong with being confused about who you are. There's nothing wrong with _you._"

"But what if people aren't okay with it? What if they say things?" Santana cried.

"Well, people will have to suck it up. If you're comfortable with who you are, then people can't do shit about it," Kurt said. When the extent of what he had just said came to him, he cursed under his breath. "God, I'm such a fucking _hypocrite._"

"What?" Santana said, touching Kurt's shoulder.

"God, I'm sorry, San," Kurt said, ducking his head. He felt a prickling at his eyes. "Here I am, telling you that you should be proud of who you are - of your sexuality when I can't even do that."

"Kurtie, what are you talking about?" Santana inquired, sitting up a little straighter.

"I'm gay," Kurt said quickly, looking back up at Santana. "I'm gay and I've probably know since I was an infant. I like guys. Boobs and vaginas just don't do it for me."

Santana simply stared at her friend who was fast approaching becoming her best friend. Wehn the latina didn't respond, Kurt repeated himself, "I'm gay, Santana."

"I-I know, I heard," she drew her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I haven't even told my parents," Kurt whispered, feeling suddenly ashamed of himself for telling his friend, Mercedes, and Santana before he told his family. "Guess I need to follow my own advice."

Santana put a hand on his shoulder, comforting him. "Hey, if I accept you, you're family will, too."

Kurt nodded, swallowing and tryingot hold back that little tears threatening to spill over. "Thanks, San."

"Hey, I should be thanking you," she replied. The latina wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. "I'm still not sure about anything, but at least I know you're here if I ever need to talk."

"I am," Kurt reassured her. He wrapped his own arms around his friend. "As long as you do the same for me."

* * *

><p><strong>So...I had to end it on a cheesy note. I love it when stories end like that :D<strong>

**Chapter Five will be split into 2 parts, by the way. The Pep Rally will be on part two.  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, so I'm having tons of trouble starting out the Kurt and Blaine bits. I want them to like get to know each other and become friends and all that, but I'm having a hard time! God, Blaine won't listen to me! He refuses to be completely rude to Kurt like I'd originally planned, he just teases him around a little. Ugh, I already know what it's like when a character takes control of themselves, but sometimes it's just plain annoying when they don't do your bidding! That's right Blaine, _You're Annoying!_ Kurt thinks so too, so at least we're going somewhere with _that..._**

**Also, sorry it took so long. School has started up again and it's high school so I'm more busy than I was in middle school. I might not post as often, too.**

**Anyways, I'm done with my little rant. You can read now :D**

* * *

><p>Kurt knocked on the pink front door of the Pierces' house. He had called Brittany to let her know that he'd be at her after-school. So now he was here, standing in front of the Pierces' scary pink and blue house. Kurt covered his eyes so he wouldn't turn blind from the bright colors.<p>

"Hello!" Kurt removed his hand to see a middle aged woman with straight dirty-blonde hair holding the door open. She was holding a squirming cat in her arms.

"Umm..hello, Mrs. Pierce," Kurt said awkwardly, guessing it was Brittany's mother.

"It's just Ms. Pierce," the woman smiled and raised her empty left hand. "No ring. I almost thought that you thought I was my mother. Even I'm not _that_ old."

Kurt chuckled a little to be friendly. "I'm looking for Britt-"

"Kurt! You're here!" Brittany came flying down the carpeted stairs, almost running into her mom. "Why are you still outside? Come in!"

"Ok-_ay!_" Kurt squealed. He turned around a second to wave at Ms. Pierce before Brittany grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the house, almost making him trip over the many rugs placed behind the door.

"I hope you don't mind, but Blaine's here," Brittany informed Kurt as they trudged to her room.

"Wai-what?" Kurt stopped dead in the hallway.

Brittany turned back to him, a confused look on her face. "Yeah...? Puck couldn't hang out with him, he's been super tired because of football practice. I know you don't exactly get along, but I thought you would've been fine with him here...?"

Kurt remembered seeing a motorcycle parked in the driveway, but hadn't given it much thought. Plus, they _were_ dating so it shouldn't come as a surprise to him. He instantly felt bad about his actions when Brittany was being so nice and sweet to him. "Yeah, it's okay. Sorry I reacted that way, he's just...I don't know."

Brittany laughed at that. "It's okay, he doesn't give good first impressions. But I promise once you get to know him, you'll like him!"

Yeah, Kurt really doubted that, but he still nodded to reassure Brittany.

Kurt followed Brittany into her room. If he had been taken back at the exterior of the house, the interior - more specifically, Brittany's room - was even more...uhm, interesting. There were tons - **_TONS_** - of throw pillows covering her bed. Her bed which was covered in neon sheets. Kurt almost brought his hands up to cover his eyes from the brightness until he realized it might be rude. There were also stuffed animals...**_everywhere._**

"What kind of world have I stepped into?" Kurt whispered to himself, giving the room another look.

"'Sup, Hummel," a deep voice drawled from the corner of the room.

Kurt glanced over to see the curly-haired boy half sitting, half-lying in a rocking chair next to Brittany's desk. "Anderson."

Blaine raised an eyebrow at Kurt's hostile tone, but didn't say anything as Brittany pushed Kurt to her desk. Kurt took one of the chairs, sliding it further away from Blaine. Brittany didn't want to have any of that, she pushed Kurt's chair back towards Blaine to settle in her own chair.

Kurt tried his best to ignore the short boy while he and Brittany went over possible books for their project. The curly haired boy wasn't having any of that though. Set on making Kurt uncomfortable, he curled his ankle around one of the legs of Kurt's chair and repeatedly tugged and Kurt would spin around and pin him with a vicious glare. Once he tugged so hard at the chair leg that Kurt's chair tipped sideways dangerously. All Blaine did was raise his hands up in innocence when both Kurt and Brittany turned to glare at him, uncurling his ankle so as not to be caught out.

"Cut it out, Anderson!" Kurt repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time when Blaine continued annoying him.

Blaine threw his hands up in mock confusion, his brow furrowing. "What did _I_ do?"

"Oh?" Kurt said in a sickly sweet voice, a little smile on his lips as he curled his own ankle around an unsuspecting Blaine's chair. "Do you want me to demonstrate?"

Before Blaine knew it, his chair disappeared from under him. _"Oof,"_ he landed with a thud on his ass, Brittany's rug cushioning his fall, but not by much - his ass was still gonna be bruised form the rough landing. "**_Shit!_** What the hell, Hummel?"

Brittany giggled as Kurt gave Blaine a smug smile and thought to herself, _Boys are such idiots._

Finally - _finally _- two hours later, Kurt and Brittany were done outlining their project. Seriously, it was turning out to be more work than it should be. Brittany was too worried about the grade since she had flunked English the previous year. "It's okay, sweetie," Kurt reassured her. "I'm sure you'll get us an A."

"I gotta head home now," Kurt stood up, collecting his things. "Dad'll be getting home soon."

"Okay!" Brittany said, shooting out of her chair and into Kurt's arm, giving him a huge bear hug. "I'll see you at the pep rally tonight, Kurtsie!"

Kurt smiled at the nickname Brittany had adopted for him. "Yeah, I'll see you there."

"Yeah. Later, Hummel," Blaine piped up from behind them. "Don't come back anytime soon."

"Aww," Kurt turned around to face him, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, drawing Blaine's attention to it. "Won't you miss me?"

Blaine grimaced. "Not as much as I'd like to see the back of you."

_Especially in those skin tight jeans...wait - what the fuck am I thinking? _Blaine mentally slapped himself, why was he thinking stuff like that?

"Hmmm..." Kurt grimaced right back at him before turning back to give Brittany another dainty hug. "Bye!"

Blaine watched Kurt walk out before grabbing his own bag. "I'm gonna head out, too. The old man already grounded me."

"Then what were you doing here?" Brittany asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Psshh," Blaine said. "Like he even notices if I sneak out."

Brittany sighed loudly before grabbing his face between her hands and giving him a little kiss. "Okay, bye, honey."

"Bye, Britt," Blaine replied, returning the kiss before hitching his too-heavy bag over his shoulder and running out of the house and onto the the driveway. _**"Yo, Hummel!"**_

Kurt turned around, keys stuck in his car door. He grimaced when he saw it was Blaine who had called him. "What is it now?" He yelled back at the hobbit, his voice full of annoyance.

Blaine ran until he was standing right in front of Kurt. He bent over, kneeling his hands on his knees, completely winded from running with that boulder of a book-bag on his back. "Your dad owns that tire and lube store right?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Yeah..."

"I think there's something wrong with my bike," Blaine said, indicating the huge motorcycle in front of Kurt's Corvair. "I wanna get it checked out."

"I could look at it for you if you want," Kurt replied.

Blaine guffawed, Kurt glared at him. "I don't think so, Princess. What would you know about fixing a car, let alone a motorcycle?"

"Hahaha," Kurt mocked. "Don't be so stereotypical. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I can't fix a car, big boy."

Blaine instantly stopped laughing. So did Kurt.

_God, what the** fuck** did I tell him that for? First, Santana and now Anderson? God, at the rate I'm going, the whole world will now I'm gay before my parents do, _Kurt slapped himself mentally, only because he would look like a crazy person if he actually did it.

He looked at Kurt, a strange expression crossed his face. "Wait...you're gay?"

Kurt waved his arms around himself, no doubt indicating his choice of clothing - which were _très_ tight, by the way. "Isn't it obvious?"

Blaine balanced from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "Actually, it's not."

"Oh..." Kurt didn't know what to say to that. "Well, now that you know," _I'm such an idiot to have let that slip out. _"You'd better not tell anyone."

Blaine spun his head back up to look at Kurt, a strange expression on his face, "Why? Are you like, I don't know, ashamed or something?"

Kurt reared his head back from his car door, pulling it open before fixing Blaine with a glare that would have reduced Medusa herself to stone. "What the _fuck_, Anderson?"

Blaine actually flinched back at Kurt tone. Kurt however didn't stop, "Why the hell would I be ashamed of myself? I'm not like those idiots who think there's something wrong with them just because they like dick! I'm not gonna try to hide it from anyone - " Blaine winced at the indirect jab. "The only thing I'm _ashamed_ of, as you so eloquently put it, is the fact that I told _you_ of all people before I told my parents!"

Blaine flinched at the jibe.

"Besides, why would you care?" Kurt continued in a much calmer tone, his arms crossed.

"I don't," Blaine stammered. "It just - it just..I don't know..."

A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

Kurt took the initiative to break it. "I'll tell my dad that you'll stop by, he probably won't even charge you."

Blaine scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably, not knowing how someone could go from yelling their brains out in rage to offering a check-up for his motorcycle, free of pay. "Yeah, thanks, H - Kurt."

Kurt didn't even have any time to inquire about the use of his first name before he was in his car and barreling down the road.

* * *

><p>"Kurt?" Beatrix pushed herself off one of the gas tanks and sauntered over to the awkwardly parked car in the lot.<p>

Kurt didn't hear her because his windows were up, but he immediately came out of his daze when her fist pounded on his window. "Huh? Wha-"

"You awake now, Hummel?" Beatrix smirked, laughing as Kurt hit the roof of his car in surprise.

"Uff," Kurt said, scrunching up his nose in annoyance. "I was awake."

"Yeah, it sure looked like it," Beatrix chuckled and turned to walk back to the shop.

"Hey, hold up!"

Beatrix winced when she heard a loud crash behind her. No doubt Kurt has probably fallen in his haste to catch up to her. Kurt pushed himself off the ground impatiently, dragging his legs from where his car had tripped him. Ugh, great. His outfit was now covered in dirt. Fucking awesome.

"You're such a slowpoke," Beatrix giggled as Kurt jogged to her. He stuck his tongue out at her which only caused her to laugh even more. "What're you doing here anyway?"

Kurt huffed, making his perfectly-gelled hair ruffle onto his forehead. "I don't know. Got bored, I guess."

"So you looked to me for entertainment?" She smirked, pushing the door to the shop open.

"What else are you good for?" Kurt joked, receiving a hard punch to the shoulder in response. "Ow!"

Beatrix led him to the very back on the store, past the check-out counter where Soda was making out with some girl and past some loitering customers who probably weren't going to buy anything, but hoped to get a chance to mack with Soda themselves.

Her office was in the supply room. It wasn't the neatest of all offices, but this was Beatrix - she probably had tons of excuses for the mess. There were boxes everywhere and tons of official-looking documents thrown all over the little couch. The only thing that showed the tiniest bit of organization was the desk with a name plate that said 'Manager' with her name engraved underneath: Blair Anderson

"Anderson?" Kurt whispered to himself, picking up the name plate. Then he said a little louder, "Your last name is Anderson?"

Beatrix spun around at a supernatural speed from where she was picking up things from the couch, much too quickly to not get any speculation from Kurt. She glanced at the name plate the Kurt was holding. "Umm...yeah. It's a small town, a lot of people have the same last names."

She shrugged as if it was no big deal, quickly turning back to the piles of papers she'd neatly stacked on the ground. Kurt narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Seriously, Bea? That's a lame fucking explanation. Plus, I didn't even need one," he said, putting the name plate back down. He rolled his eyes at Beatrix as she continued to shuffle through the mess. "I mean, it's not like I immediately thought you were somehow related to that Blaine kid just because you have the same last name."

Beatrix stiffened. She had never been a good liar, she was very bad at keeping things from people. It was surprising since everyone thought she was so tough. Kurt raised an eyebrow when she stopped what she was doing. "...Bea? You okay?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, turning around slowly. "And what would you, umm, do if I _was_ somehow related to that oaf?"

"Well, that's not really something I-" Kurt immediately halted, as if he had suddenly had an epiphany.

Beatrix was wringing her hands, waiting for a response. His narrowed eyes went from the name plate to her a few times, trying to calculate exactly what was going on.

"Bea, are you and Blaine...?" He weaned off his sentence as Beatrix pursed her lips nervously, chewing on the insides of her cheeks. He dropped the hand he was pointing at her with. "Wow."

Beatrix dropped her head, shuffling her feet on the carpet. "Yeah, wow." She looked back up at him, h4er eyebrows knit together. "The whole town knows. I'm surprised you didn't realize it before considering how much we look alike."

Kurt scanned her appearance. He hadn't give it much thought before, but _**now. **_

_'How the hell could I have missed that?' _Kurt cursed in his mind_. 'They're practically twins!'_

She had very curly hair, just like Blaine's only longer. They had the same eyes, Kurt remembered the green-brownish of Blaine's eyes - it was the boy's best feature.

_Along with others. _

Her nose was thinner than his, but they had the same tan skin-tone. She was taller than Blaine, but everyone was - Kurt had even nicknamed him Frodo.

The list of similarities could go on and on, get even more detailed - like how both of them chewed their lips until they bled when they were nervous. Or how they had that little smirk whenever they saw something amusing. Or the fact that they had that same 'I'm-way-better-than-you' attitude.

"Damn."

Beatrix laughed, a huge bout of laughter that had her coughing and snorting in intervals. Kurt was almost worried that she'd start choking until she stopped, chuckling a little at times. "You're so cute, Hummel."

* * *

><p><strong>So, no song for this chapter. Once again, sorry it took so long. The next one will take longer or be as long as 'cause it the <em>PEP RALLY<em>. Have patience.**

**I made the flirtatious thoughts wayyy too obvious in this chapter :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay. The Pep Rally. Goddamn, I hope I did a decent job on this one - I _know_ it's not great.**

**THIS IS IMPORTANT-ish. READ:**

**This school is McKinley. Like I said before, I don't have enough imagination to plot a whole new school so let's just pretend that McKinley is located in Oklahoma now. Okay? YAY! And their school mascot is Mr. Patriot!  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"So, you going to the pep rally tonight?" Kurt asked Beatrix later as he lounged on the couch in her office.<p>

"Umm, yeah. I was thinking about it," she replied, her voice resonating from the inventory room which was connected to her office by a door. She had been searching for something for about an hour, but wouldn't tell Kurt what it was.

Kurt idly played with the little dolphin paper-weight Beatrix had on her desk, twirling it between his fingers. "I've never been to a pep-rally before."

Beatrix loud giggles echoed off the walls of the inventory room and into her office. Kurt sent her a viscous glare. "I'm sorry, but _what?_ You've never been to a pep rally before?" Kurt shook his head. "Seriously, not even at your old school?"

"Nope," Kurt shook his head again, putting the paper-weight down. "Except for that mandatory one during my freshman year, but it was horrible." Kurt flinched a little recalling the event.

"Why?" Beatrix asked when she came back into the room, carrying two _huge_ boxes. Kurt leapt up from his lying position to help her set them on her desk.

"Well," Kurt began his story. "We had a P.E. teacher named Ken Tanaka. He was nice enough, but he was really tough, too. He coached football and cheer-leading and you know you should never mix football and cheer coaches together! One of the reasons I withheld from trying out for the squad. Anyways," Kurt said, getting back on topic. "That year he decided to shoot one of his cheer-leaders out of a canon."

Beatrix eyebrows shot up her forehead. "Like a real, legit _canon?"_

Kurt nodded. "Needless to say, it did_ not_ go well."

Beatrix shuddered at the image her mind concocted. "Was the girl hurt?"

"Not badly," Kurt said, scrunching up his nose when the box he was carrying opened a bit only to let out a very foul-smelling odor. "Just a dislocated shoulder, and she needed a few stitches as well - _thankfully _that was it_. _I'm sure her parents would have taken Mr. Tanaka to court if she had gotten hurt any worse."

"Didn't he get fired? What kind of principal would even let someone be shot out of a canon?" Beatrix exclaimed.

"I have no idea," Kurt replied, finally reaching Beatrix's desk.

The boxes fell onto the small desk with a loud thud, making dust cloud up everywhere. Kurt coughed uncontrollably, wiping at the suffocating dust. "The fuck is in this?"

Beatrix shook her hand around wildly, trying to get the dust away, too. "It's the school's mascot," she said as he pulled out the head of the costume. It was shaped like an old-fashioned hat, the kind Jack Sparrow would wear.

_**'Captain** Jack Sparrow,'_ Kurt corrected in his mind.

"God, how do people breathe in that?" Kurt said, scrunching up his nose. He rubbed his finger under his nose when the stench of the un-washed - who knew for how long it had been sitting in there? - costume wafted toward his nostrils.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at the crazy-haired girl. "And why, may I ask, do you have it?"

Beatrix gave another little cough and shrugged. "I stole it during my senior year."

_"WHAT?" _ Kurt exclaimed. "Why would you do that?"

Beatrix merely shrugged again. "Thought it be a funny prank. Lighten up dude, it's not like everybody's just _dying_ to be the McKinley Patriot!"

Kurt rolled his eyes and poked at the foul-smelling boxes. "Still."

* * *

><p><strong>"We've got the moves, we're in the groove.<strong>

**Now lemme hear your Patriot spirit!"**

"Woo!" Kurt screamed along with all the other students, laughing giddily at the ones who practically _howled._

"I'm guessing you enjoy pep rallies now?" Beatrix teased, smiling up at him from a lower perch on the bleachers.

"Only the ones here!" Kurt said, screaming in sync with everyone.

**"Stomp, clap-clap, stomp, clap."**

Kurt and Beatrix giggled uncontrollably at the sight of all the people trying to dance along with the cheer. The school mascot (Beatrix had returned it to the school before the Pep Rally started. Figgs was_ not _happy.) was running all around the football field, pumping up the crowd.

**"Stomp, clap-clap, stomp clap."**

"Hummel, you best be stompin' and clappin'. You do not want me to come up there, you're ruinin' our school's rep!" Santana yelled at the boy, but her smile betrayed her tone, letting him know she was just joking. Kurt waved her off, but proceeded to join in on the ridiculous dance.

**"We won't stop till we reach the top.**

**Now lemme hear your Patriot spirit!"  
><strong>

Kurt and Beatrix exploded into laughter at the sight of Artie, a handicapped kid, dancing in his seat on the grass. Brittany was in front of him, leading him on the dances. There was just _something_ about seeing a guy gyrating against air in a wheelchair.

**"**Stomp, clap-clap, stomp clap.****

****Stomp, clap-clap, stomp clap.**"**

"When is this going to be over?" Kurt asked/yelled to Beatrix, it was so _loud._

"Probably another half-hour," Beatrix said and Kurt groaned. He was getting tired of the music and cheesy cheers, but he pushed his party-pooper personality out of the way and cheered along with the rest of the student body.

* * *

><p>"That was the loudest hour of my life," Kurt said, catching his breath as he and Beatrix carefully made their way off the bleachers. This was a difficult feat since there were tons of people crowding around them, pushing to get off the bleacher themselves. The bleachers were also very steep and the steps were small, so they had to make sure they didn't fall on their asses.<p>

"You have no idea how wrong that sounded," Beatrix winked. Kurt stuck his tongue out at her, making her laugh so hard that she almost tripped on the soda-covered bleachers.

"Oh, shut up," Beatrix glared half-heartedly at Kurt when he laughed at her clumsiness.

"Well, well, well," a low voice drawled out, startling the both of them. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Blaine Anderson stood in front of them, cocky as ever in his leather and boots, his white tank-top in sharp contrast against the dark leather. Brittany was clutching his arm, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else. Blaine appraised Beatrix through narrowed eyes. "Looks like it choked up a dirty, _greasy_, little hairball."

"Yeah, because you look _oh-so-charming_ in your hand-me-down clothing," Beatrix replied scathingly. "How did you find anyone short enough that their clothes would actually fit, Frodo?"

Blaine's narrowed eyes turned into burning glares, Beatrix didn't even flinch. "Unlike you, I'm not dirt poor and can actually buy my own shit without asking for - what do you greasers call 'em? - _loans._"

"I work for a living," Beatrix replied back smoothly, not fazed by the insult. "You don't though, right?" Beatrix smirked when Blaine tightened his arms around himself, knowing where this was going. She continued in a baby voice, "Why would you when you have precious daddy to take care of all your wittle pwoblems."

Blaine barked, his laugh catching Kurt so off-guard that he jumped a little. "You're one to talk about parents, aren't you. Weird, since you said - and I qoute directly from you - 'I don't have parents,'" Blaine said in a scarily accurate mock of Bea's voice.

Beatrix laughed, sucking on the inside of her cheeks. It was a sarcastic laugh because there was no hint of amusement on her face. Kurt pulled at her arm, trying to get out of there. Brittany didn't look to happy either and was quietly pleading with Blaine to stop. It was still strange to think of Blaine as Bea's brother, especially when they were throwing insults at each other like this.

He didn't even have time to question about Blaine's 'no parents' comment before Beatrix started talking again. She was eyeing Brittany was a little smirk of her face, Kurt had a feeling this wasn't gonna be good.

"What number is she then?" Beatrix said, nodding to Brittany who immediately ducked her head behind Blaine. "I've lost count of how many girls you've been with, or should I just say _people_ in general?"

Blaine snapped his head up from Brittany's where he had been trying to comfort her. Brittany pulled her head away from his, too, a confused expression crossing her face and spoke for the first time since the fight started, "Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your boy-toy knows exactly what it's supposed to mean," Beatrix drawled, not even looking Brittany's way, her eyes firmly set on Blaine. "Don't you, Blainey?"

If it was possible, Blaine's glare turned even more..angrier? All Kurt knew was that one second he was standing there, a few feet away from him and Bea, and the next he was up in her face and sending him crashing against some wall.

"You don't know _shit_ about me," Blaine growled, beyond angry at the way she talked to Brittany and her implications in that one sentence. "You're just a sore little bitch who has no fucking family to speak of, living in a dumpy little apartment in the wrong part of town. I'm surprised you even have _friends._" He glanced over to where Kurt was standing wide-eyed against the before-mentioned wall.

"Hey! What's goin' on here?" Kurt heard someone yell. The four of them turned to see a guy with a mo-hawk running towards them.

"Nothing, Puck," Blaine said, glaring one last time at Beatrix before he grabbed Brittany's arms and dragged her away to his car.

By the time Beatrix had regained her cool, he stopped walking and turned around. Kurt immediately got in front of Bea, as if trying to protect her from more of Anderson's scathing words. Blaine barely paid him any mind, just looked directly at Beatrix and said - in a really creepy way no less, "See you later, Blair."

* * *

><p><strong>OMG! FINA-<em>FUCKING<em>-LLY! I can't believe I finally finished this chapter. Hallelujah!**

**Review, Favorite - it only takes seconds! :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**I had to re-do the end of the second part and the last part 'cause I accidentally clicked the FaceBook button when I was typing this up. Ugh, deleted everything I added. I think I almost started crying 'cause it was perfect and I lost it all. Anyway, I fixed it! Enjoy!**_  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>'I got some troubles but they won't last,<em>

_I'm gonna lay right down here in the grass,_

_And pretty soon all my troubles will pass,_

_'cause I'm in shoo-shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo,_

_Shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo Sugar Town'_

Kurt groaned from under his covers. His limbs were thrown askew under his comforter which was twisted around his body like a cocoon. "Nnnghh..." Kurt moaned, sticking his head out from underneath his comforter. He immediately hissed at the light spilling into his room from the window. He wrestled his hand from his bindings and slapped it down onto his radio alarm clock, ridding him of the voice of Nancy Sinatra.

"Kurt, sweetie, it's time to get up!" Carole yelled down the stairs.

Kurt rolled his eyes and flopped himself back down onto his bed. His comforter folded itself onto his face. _I'll get up in a second_, Kurt thought pathetically,_ just five more minutes._

_**A Couple Hours Later:**  
><em>

_"Kurt!" _Kurt screamed as his comforter was ripped from his body making him fold into himself at the sudden cold.

He groaned in agitation. "What the fu-" he stopped dead in his words when he met the stern eyes of his step-mother.

Carole raised an eyebrow at Kurt's use of language. "Did you forget you had to be somewhere today?"

Kurt paused before answering, wary of Carole's mood. "Is this a trick question?"

Kurt ducked away before Carole started yelling at him for sleeping. He found refuge in his en suite bathroom. He slumped against the wall and huffed, making his bags furl against his forehead. He had checked the time before running away from Carole, he'd make it just in time for his last two periods. "Might as well get ready."

He had almost finished his entire moisturizing routine before he realized Nancy Sinatra's voice was booming from his radio, playing the same song he had set for his alarm.

'If I had a million dollars or ten,

I'd give to ya, world, and then,

You'd go away and let me spend,

My life in shoo-shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo-shoo,

Shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo, shoo-shoo Sugar Town,

la-la-la-la to end'

* * *

><p>"Whoa, what happened to you, Lady-face?" Santana giggled, raising an eyebrow at Kurt's appearance.<p>

The counter-tenor obviously did not enjoy being made fun of. "Shut up, San."

"You look like hell!" Santana continued, ignoring Kurt's warning. She surveyed the boys appearance. In fact, he did look horrible. His clothes weren't ironed and he was slouching - something Kurt Hummel never did. And he was wearing huge sunglasses indoors. From what bare skin the sunglasses left bare, his skin looked sallow.

"I woke up late okay!" Kurt hissed, slamming his locker door closed. He hadn't had much time to fix himself 'cause he could feel Carole giving him the evil eye through he door.

"I can see that," Santana quipped, giggling more until Kurt gave _her_ the evil eye. "Sorry. Why did you even bother coming? There's only one class left."

"My mom's scary," Kurt replied, smirking. Santana giggled again. "What did I miss this morning anyway?"

Santana bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. "Nothing much. Just a bunch of stupid jocks holding up everyone from getting to their classes."

Kurt gave her a confused look, one that said she needed to tell him _everything._ Santana sighed and continued. "Two idiots were fighting in the halls."

"Who?"

"Anderson and Karofsky," Santana replied.

"Who the hell is Karofsky?" Kurt asked but before he could get an answer out of Santana, he was pushed roughly against his locker. _"Fuck!"_

Kurt felt the ridges of his locker press into his back, leaving scratches deep enough for blood probably. He slid to the ground, cursing whoever it was.

"Watch where you're going, fag," someone spat at him. Kurt was still flinching from the pain in his back to look up in time. When he did though, all he saw was the back of a guy in a red sports jacket.

_"That _is Karofsky."

* * *

><p>"You will be required to do a project on a book of your choosing. The project can be anything, a book report, you can do a skit, a short movie. Whatever, as long as it fits the criteria," Mr. Syme was passing out papers with the requirements for a project the whole class was required to do.<p>

"Damn, is he serious?" Kurt heard a voice hiss behind him. Blaine Anderson stomped his foot hard against the ground, clearly not enjoying the concept of doing a project.

_He probably thought he could sit back and not do any shit during his senior year,_ Kurt thought. _Well, too bad._

Kurt rolled his eyes and ignored his whines. He other things on his mind. Like what Karofsky had called him.

_Fag._

He was sure that nobody knew he was gay, so why the hell would Karofsky call him that? He though back to what Santana had told him.

_"Karofsky calls everyone fag," Santana said, waving her hand as if it were an everyday thing. "Probably because he's gay and it makes him feel better by putting other people down for it."_

**_THUD!_**

Kurt lurched in his seat, flying up a couple inches. His desk tilted itself, about to fall until Kurt grabbed it and set it back to it's original place. The entire class was staring at him now, he felt himself heat under their gaze. To ward off the attention he turned back to Blaine and stared at him accusingly. Blaine lifted his hands in apology. _Yeah, right,_ Kurt thought with a sneer.

"Mr. Anderson and Mr. Hummel, is there a problem?" Mr. Syme raised his eyebrows, not happy about being interrupted.

"No, not at all, Mr Syme," Kurt replied, playing up the charm.

"Kiss up," he heard Blaine whisper behind him. Kurt's foot traveled against the floor until it found Blaine's right leg against his chair legs and promptly kicked him in the ankle. _"Shi-"_

Blaine shut himself up just in time because Mr. Syme was still staring at them. He bit his lip, willing the pain from the kick to go away. _ Fuck you, Hummel._

Mr. Syme finally turned away from them, resuming whatever it was he was doing. Blaine glared at the back of Kurt's head, cursing him over and over in his head.

"I'm going to pair you up into partners for this assignment. It is due at the end of the year, since I know you probably won't start reading let alone actually start working on this project right away. Better to give you all as much time as I can."

Mr. Syme began calling out names, pairing up students for the project.

"Kurt and Brittany."

Kurt looked up as his name was called. He didn't know many people yet so he wondered who this Brittany was.

_"Psst,"_ Blaine lamely tried getting Kurt's attention, but if Kurt heard him, he gave no indication.

Blaine huffed and scooted up in his chair, getting right behind Kurt's head. He cleared his throat and - **_"YO HUMMEL!"_**

Kurt lurched in his seat, squealing a little. His desk didn't fall over though, but he was tempted to throw over _someone's_ desk. He spun around in his seat, glaring viciously at the boy behind him, this time ignoring the stares his classmates were giving them. "What the_ fuck_ is your problem?"

Blaine shrugged, putting on a mock innocent face. "Just letting you know your partner's trying to get your attention."

Blaine pointed his thumb in the direction of the tall blonde sitting next to him. "Hi, Kurt. I'm Brittany!" Kurt smiled at the seemingly-nice girl and returned the greeting. "Hey, do you wanna go over to my house tomorrow and start on the project? I'm not very smart so if we want a good grade, we should get started soon."

"I don't believe that, but sure," Kurt replied while Brittany scribbled her phone number and address down, Kurt did the same.

Brittany turned to Blaine. "Who did you get paired up with?"

"Puck," Blaine smiled. He and Puck were best friends, so it was safe to say that not much progress would be made on the project and they would surely fail.

Brittany smacked the curly-haired boy on the shoulder. "Don't goof around, Blaine. You don't want to fail English during your senior year, do you?"

"Don't worry, Britt," Blaine reassured, glancing at Kurt. "Beside, you're probably gonna too busy with Hummel to remember to be worrying about me."

"I'll never be _too_ busy," Brittany replied, a smirk on her face.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the flirtatious behavior. He could've guessed Blaine was straight, but something hadn't seem right about it. Well, he _had_ seen him maul a blonde girl in the car park yesterday, but _still._

_Why do I even care? If he's straight, he's straight, If he's gay, the he's - _Kurt sneaked a peek at Blaine. Brittany and Blaine were sitting closer now and the girl's cleavage was practically in the boy's face. _ Yeah, he's straight.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Kurt popped a fry into his mouth. "So, what exactly happened this morning when I wasn't at school?"<p>

"Nothing much," Santana replied from her perch at her vanity. "Karofsky made some remark about Anderson's sister and Anderson just blew up in his face."

"Who's Anderson's sister?" Kurt asked, playing with the frayed edge of Santana's blanket. He looked up when she didn't answer. "Santana?"

Santana was holding apiece of paper with a little smile on her face.

"Ooohhh, Santana's got a love letter," Kurt teased in a sing-song voice, sidling up to the Latina. Before he could look at the slip of paper though, Santana stuffed it under her butt, sitting on it.

Kurt cocked an eyebrow at the child-like behavior. "Santana...what are you doing?"

"Nothing," she replied quickly. Too quickly. "It's nothing."

"Mmmhhhmmm," Kurt smirked, but decided to let it go.

"Britt told me that you're her partner for an English assignment," Santana said, trying to change the subject. She grabbed her hairbrush to smooth-en out tangles while hoping she sounded nonchalant.

"Huh?" Kurt mumbled, walking back to the bed, falling face-first into the clean sheets. "Oh yeah. We talked to other for a bit until Anderson interrupted."

Santana let out a fake chuckle. "Yeah, they're kinda inseparable."

Kurt raised his head from the bed. "What?"

"They're dating," Santana said, her voice full of disgust, tossing her hairbrush back to where it was.

"They are?" Kurt said, somewhat surprised.

_Well, guess I was right, _Kurt thought back to how flirtatious they were during class and wondered why he hadn't put two-and-two together.

"You don't seem too happy about them dating," he said. He saw how her face turned up into a snarl when she told him, she obviously wasn't happy about it.

"He's not good enough for her," she replied, as if that explained it all.

Kurt chose his next words carefully. "Why isn't he good enough for her?"

"'Cause he just isn't!" Santana spun around to face the countertenor, forgetting her cover. "He's a total jackass to everyone and I don't get how he ended up with someone as awesome and nice as Brittany! I mean, even you think he's a total douche-bag! Most of the school does, too."

"Yeah, you're right. I don't like him very much," Kurt said, sitting up. "But why don't _you_ like him?"

"'Cause he's a total ass-wipe!" Santana said, throwing her arms out as if to say it was obvious. "All the jocks are! They think they rule the entire school just because they throw a ball around a field and tackle eachother. _Big whoop!_"

Kurt eyebrows were so far up his forehead they disappeared beneath his hair. "Are you sure that's all this is about? Blaine not being good enough for her?"

Santana crossed her arms, done with her tirade. "What else could it be about?"

"I -" Kurt didn't know who to phrase what he was trying to say. "Do you - I mean, I don't mean to be - Are you and Britt-"

"Kurt," Santana stopped the countertenor's ramblings. "Are you trying to ask me if I l-like Britt?"

Kurt was silent for a few moments before he nodded.

"I'm confused," she said. "Honestly. I mean, I love Britt and all. She's been my friend sine preschool. I live on the East side and she's on the West and you know you don't befriend someone on the East side if you wanna keep your reputation intact,' but she didn't care and she chose to sit next to me and she became my best friend and-" Santana stopped her own ramblings, gathering her thoughts and taking deep breaths.

"I know I like boys, but they tell you that when you're a teenager, it's the time of experimentation. But then they go and tell you that being homosexual is wrong and I'm just so _confused,_" Santana's voice cracked at the end. She slumped back into her chair, dropping her face in her hands.

Kurt sat silently at his perch on his friend's - no, _best friend_ (Mercedes will just have to deal with him having two) - bed. He ached for her. Society was so messed up _everywhere._ All of them - fucking hypocrites. Telling you you're beautiful one second and then telling you you need to lose weight in another second. Or saying that liking this or that is weird. Or liking someone on the same gender was unnatural but then saying that love had no boundaries.

Kurt learned not to pay attention to any of that bullshit, but not everyone was like that. Especially Santana. She was a teenage girl and image is everything when you're still a kid.

He slipped off the bed and crouched next to his friend. He hesitantly touched her knee, wanting to comfort her. "San?" She didn't reply. "Santana, there is nothing wrong with being gay. Or bisexual, even."

Santana tried to get up, not wanting to have this conversatino right now, but Kurt pushed her back down in her seat. "Santana, listen to me. Please. It's okay to be confused about who you are. You're a teenager, you're not supposed to have everythign figured out."

"Well maybe I do!" She exclaimed, pulling free of Kurt's arms. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with all these - these _feelings_."

Kurt was quiet, letting Santana get out her feelings. When it appeared that she had nothign else to say, he sat her back down again. "I'm gonna give you a piece of advice that was given to me: It doesn't matter who you're attracted to, it ultimately matters who you fall in love with. It's all about love."

He removed the Latina's hands form her face where she was pouring her tears into and turned it up so she was looking at him. She had dark tear tracks on her face left by her mascaraand her eyes were puffy. "There's nothing wrong with liking Brittany. There's nothing wrong with being confused about who you are. There's nothing wrong with _you._"

"But what if people aren't okay with it? What if they say things?" Santana cried.

"Well, people will have to suck it up. If you're comfortable with who you are, then people can't do shit about it," Kurt said. When the extent of what he had just said came to him, he cursed under his breath. "God, I'm such a fucking _hypocrite._"

"What?" Santana said, touching Kurt's shoulder.

"God, I'm sorry, San," Kurt said, ducking his head. He felt a prickling at his eyes. "Here I am, telling you that you should be proud of who you are - of your sexuality when I can't even do that."

"Kurtie, what are you talking about?" Santana inquired, sitting up a little straighter.

"I'm gay," Kurt said quickly, looking back up at Santana. "I'm gay and I've probably know since I was an infant. I like guys. Boobs and vaginas just don't do it for me."

Santana simply stared at her friend who was fast approaching becoming her best friend. Wehn the latina didn't respond, Kurt repeated himself, "I'm gay, Santana."

"I-I know, I heard," she drew her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I haven't even told my parents," Kurt whispered, feeling suddenly ashamed of himself for telling his friend, Mercedes, and Santana before he told his family. "Guess I need to follow my own advice."

Santana put a hand on his shoulder, comforting him. "Hey, if I accept you, you're family will, too."

Kurt nodded, swallowing and tryingot hold back that little tears threatening to spill over. "Thanks, San."

"Hey, I should be thanking you," she replied. The latina wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. "I'm still not sure about anything, but at least I know you're here if I ever need to talk."

"I am," Kurt reassured her. He wrapped his own arms around his friend. "As long as you do the same for me."

* * *

><p><strong>So...I had to end it on a cheesy note. I love it when stories end like that :D<strong>

**Chapter Five will be split into 2 parts, by the way. The Pep Rally will be on part two.  
><strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Yea. This chapter is bullshit. Just pulled it all outta my ass. Couldn't come up with something worth reading so this is what you get.**

**Sorry.**

* * *

><p>"So, what did you agree on?" Kurt asked Brittany, not turning from his perch at her desk to look back at her.<p>

After a moment, she replied in a quiet voice, "I don't know, whichever you want to do."

Kurt let out an exasperated breath and spun around in his chair to look at the blonde. They were back at Brittany's house going strong on their project, except today it seemed Britt wanted to be doing anything but.

The lack of lewd, sarcastic comments and the fact the Kurt's chair wasn't being kicked every five minutes made him glad at least Anderson wasn't there. It would have been a _great _day, too, if Brittany wasn't so...dejected. She had barely said a word since Kurt had walked through her door. All she did was give half-assed responses, clutching her fat cat to her chest like a lifeline.

"Okay, Britt, what's up?" Kurt said, tired of the blonde's moping. "You've been like this all day."

Brittany took a deep breath and clutched Lord Tubbington to her chest tighter, the cat meowed in protest. "Actually, it's been since yesterday."

"Why?" Kurt hadn't known the usually cheery blonde to be mopey for_ that_ long.

Even from his perch near her desk, Kurt could see how her bottom lip trembled and the sudden wetness wetness of her eyes. "...aine..okeupwifm..."

Kurt squinted at Brittany, unable to decipher her mumbled words. "What?"

A loud huff. "Blaine..okeupwifme..."

"I'm sorry, the only thing I got from that was 'Blaine,'" Kurt said exasperatedly.

Brittany whimpered loudly and pushed her cat away from her, diving into her mountain of pillows before saying loud and clear,_ "Blaine broke up with me!"_

Kurt's eyes went wide and he struggled to find the right words to express his surprise. Thankfully he was saved, but not really, because Brittany launched into her story of_ how._

He had done it over the_ phone._

Surely there was no worse way to break up with someone - besides cheating.

"Seriously? He wasn't even man enough to do it face-to-face?" Kurt sneered, astonished.

_'Guess Anderson's not as dapper as he thinks he is.'_

"And he didn't even tell me_ why_," Brittany cried as Kurt rocked her back and forth in his arms, trying to comfort her. "Just some lame excuse that 'it wasn't working out.'_ Please_," she spat, suddenly angry. "That's a cop-out. I know because I've used that line, too!_"_

"I'm so sorry, honey," Kurt said, wanting to rip the hobbit to shreds.

Brittany sniffed a few times, wiping her nose along her arm - Kurt tried not to cringe - and looked at Kurt with her big, puppy-like, brown eyes. "What do you do to get over a break up?"

"Oh, well," Kurt laughed uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. Brittany waited. "Um...well...uh..."

"Kurt," Brittany said slowly, resting her head against his shoulder. "I _know_ you've had a boyfriend before 'cause you told San once about him and she told me."

Kurt sigh heavily, slumping against the headboard of the bed. "Well...we didn't exactly _break up_, so to say. I just moved to here and _everyone_ knows long-distance relationships don't work, so...it was just kind of...over, I guess."

"Aw," Brittany moaned sadly. "What was his name."

Now, _that _he hadn't even told Santana. Oh god, Kurt _really_ hated talking about his ex. Not because he had bad feelings toward him - no - but because it just...hurt to think about their relationship.

Still, he couldn't let Britt with her too-big eyes and pouty face down. "Sam. His name was Sam."

* * *

><p>"Finally realized you were no good for her, huh?"<p>

Blaine yelped a little in surprise, almost hitting his head against the shelf in his locker. Someone snickered behind him. He stiffened in his crouch, recognizing the raspy voice.

"I was wondering when you'd get your head outta your ass and finally realize that you're unable to satisfy mostly anything."

Blaine stood up slowly, extracting his needed books and such, the muscles in his back popping. "Shut up, Santana."

"Aww," the Latina continued anyway, cooing in a condescending baby voice, "Is the little hobbit sad that he doesn't have any eye-candy to flash around on his arm anymore?"

"Why do you care so much about my relationship status anyway?" He gave her one of his signature smirks, playing along. "Did you want to volunteer?"

"_Please," _she scoffed. "Hell to the no."

"Good," he sneered. "You wouldn't even be worth paying to pretend."

"With that face, I don't think_ anyone's_ gonna be lining up anytime soon," Santana quipped back.

"Good, then you can leave," Blaine said icily, glaring at her.

Santana stuck her nose in the air haughtily and turned her back on him, but not before quickly throwing him the finger. He imitated catching it in his hand and clutched his closed fist to his heart, sending her a little air kiss to _really_ piss her off. Which he succeeded because she glared at him, letting out a loud huff before storming off down the hall.

"I'd like to know _why_ exactly."

"Aah!" Blaine must've jumped three feet in the air. Everyone seemed to enjoy scaring the shit out of him today, huh?

Puck merely rolled his eyes at the shorter boy, then raising an expecting eyebrow when Blaine turned around. "Why'd you break up with Britt?"

As soon as Blaine got his breath back and was sure his heart wasn't gonna fall out his mouth, he said, "Why gives a fuck why? I just _did_."

Puck rolled his eyes again an followed after Blaine in the direction of their class. "But why, though? You two were _the_ item coupled of McKinley."

"Look," Blaine groaned, rubbing his forehead in frustration. They stopped in front of the door of their English class. "It's not that big of a deal, okay? People break up all the time."

"It_ is_ a big deal when the girl's best friend calls the guy's best friend to give him a verbal beating for even knowing the break up-er."

"Heh," Blaine chuckled. "Santana would do that."

"So the only fair thing is you telling me _why_," Puck insisted, folding his arms in front of himself and cocking an eyebrow,

Blaine groaned, rubbing at his forehead again. "My parents came back and they were giving _me_ a verbal beating as well. Some shit about me at least not messing up on getting a girlfriend. I just...snapped and told them we broke up before I even thought about it."

It was true. He had berated and cursed himself after dinner. He hadn't wanted to break up with the spunky blonde, but what if his parents and found out he had never really broken up with her? They would give him an hour-long speech on lying and he had sat through that enough times that he had it almost memorized.

"Your parents control your life too much," Puck said, shaking his head at his friend's stupidity. "Do they still have you in diapers?"

"I would think so," someone said behind Blaine

_"Jesus fucking Christ!"_ Blaine yelped, slamming into Puck in surprise. "Do people not have anything better to do than eavesdrop?"

Blaine turned around to face none other that Kurt Hummel. "What the hell, Hummel?"

"Ohh," Kurt teased. "Someone's feisty today. And shouldn't I be asking _you_ that? You broke up with her because of your fucking _parents?_ You're more pathetic than I thought."

"Hey," Blaine growled warningly, jabbing a finger into the taller boy's chest. "You don't know shit about me or my family. Don't stick your gay face into places it doesn't belong."

Kurt's eyes narrowed icily at the 'gay face' comment and he reared back to give Anderson some of his own medicine, but instead he said, "Well , as long as I don't have to see your sweaty, slightly squished in face or that bird's nest atop your head," he smiled, "and I guess we won't even see each other in the halls or out since you're so...height deprived. Be careful in those halls, you might get trampled."

"Is that the only you can come up with? My face, my hair, my height? I think you're running out of material."

"Oh, I never run out of material, but since you're practically not gonna exist after this I won't waste my time with you. Isn't that right?" And with that, Kurt spun around in a flourish and disappeared into the classroom.

"We'll see, Hummel," Blaine smirked, thoughts forming in his mind about how he could make good of his threat.

* * *

><p>"C'mon, Britt. He's a total jerk, you shouldn't be wasting your tears on his sorry ass," Santana cooed.<p>

Brittany replied with a loud wail.

"Okay," Santana scrambled to find other ways to cheer up her friend. She shifted her position on the library couch, sliding her arms under the crying girl's legs, pulling her onto her lap. Brittany nuzzled her neck, burying her face and tears in Santana's ponytail.

"Sweetie, he's not the only one who loves you or that last person to ever date you. I bet you'll have a new boy-toy on your arm by next week, 'kay? You will never have a shortage of people who love you."

"Like who?" Brittany sniffled pitifully. Santana tried not to squirm at the way her breath tickled her neck.

"Well there's you mom," Santana listed, combing through Brittany's soft hair soothingly. "Your little siblings absolutely adore you and we _can't_ forget Lord Tubbington," Brittany giggled. "This entire school loves you, even if they may be jealous at times."

Santana felt her smile. "And I love you, too."

"I love you, too, San," Brittany whispered back, her sobs under control.

"No, Britt," Santana pushed her off her neck, making her look at her finally. "I _love_ you, honey."

Brittany's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Yeah...you just said that..."

"No, Britt, you don't understand," Santana's voice cracked and she blinked away the tears forming at the corner of her eyes. Brittany saw this and engulfed her in one of her hugs.

"No, stop. Please."

Brittany immediately let go and glued her arms to her side with a confused and hurt look on her face. Santana never pushed her away. "What's wrong?"

"I just..." Santana gulped in a big breath of air, her eyes growing wet again and clouding her vision. She didn't wipe at her eyes, Brittany's kicked-puppy look was already lethal enough. "I can't. You just got out of a relationship, I'm not gonna complicate your feelings right now."

She moved to push Brittany off her lap, but the blonde held firm. Brittany grabbed the Latina's arms and forced her to look at her. Santana's struggles were useless. "I'm a big girl, I think I can handle it."

Santana huffed, wishing she had never said in the first place. "Fine. You really wanna know?"

Brittany nodded eagerly.

Santana hesitated before choosing her words. "The things I'm supposed to want with guys - y'know, kissing, and hand holding...and sex - I...I want with _women_."

Brittany merely stared back at Santana.

"Britt, did you hear me? Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Santana was getting skittish now. Brittany was staring at her, not saying anything. She couldn't make the words come out right, she couldn't just say "I'm gay." No, this was Brittany. It couldn't be as simple as that.

"Are you saying you're a dolphin like Kurt?" Brittany asked innocently, looking at Santana with wonder.

Santana could only stare at the girl with awe before she said, "Yeah. Like Kurt."

Brittany smiled and hugged her best friend like it was the last time they'd see each other. "But..what does that have to do with me? I'm glad I know, but it seemed like there was something more...?"

Santana's moment of happiness immediately vanished.

* * *

><p>Kurt was typing away at his laptop in the public library when he felt something sticky and wet collide with the back of his neck.<p>

"Eugh," he groaned in disgust when his hand came away with a spitball. He wiped his hand against the edge of the desk, glaring every which way to find the culprit. He turned around in his chair to face the back of the library.

Bad decision.

Another spitball flew at him like a meteor and collided with his nose. He could feel the spit snaking it's way down to his mouth.

"What. The. _FUCK!_" He growled, hastily wiping at face, not giving a fuck about the librarian trying to shush him. A loud, ugly, cackle of laughter made me look up in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Blaine shrugged, his cheeks puffed up and red from his laughter. "Just -_ another cackle of laughter_ - enjoyin' the view." He completely exploded into a fit of giggles.

Kurt spied the straw clutched in Blaine's hand and glared a deathly glare at the hobbit. He angrily wiped his face with his sleeve. _"What the hell are you doing here?"_

Blaine's ridiculous laughs seemed to increase. "English projec-" was all he could get out.

"Well then why don't you find your partner and _leave me alone!_" Kurt yelled quietly when the librarian shushed him again.

Blaine was practically dead on the ground, gasping for breath and his laughs barely audible now. Kurt wold be worried the he actually _was_ dead if he didn't wish it was true so much. "I - I'm with - _a loud guffaw_ - I'm lookin' at my partner!"

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Shut up, Anderson and get lost, Brittany doesn't wanna see you."

"Sh- she's already s- seen me," the other boy choked, his eyes watering with the force of it. He wasn't laughing anymore, thank god. Kurt was seriously wondered if he came from the Hyena family.

"I repeat: what are you talking about?"

Blaine coughed, his head spinning. "I'm your new partner." He swung his arms out as if to say "viola!"

Kurt was silent.

The he was dragging Anderson off the ground and reeling in anger and confusion. He slammed his book against the boy's side, eliciting a curse. "What - _slam_ - the - _slam_ - fuck are you - _slam_ - talking about?" _Slam._

Blaine batted the hard book away, rubbing at his bruised side. "Me and Brittany switched partners."

Kurt took a deep breath and dropped the book back on the table with a _bang_. "WHAT!"

Blaine smiled at Kurt's obvious anger. "I convince her that it would remind her too much of me if she continued behind your partner."

"And _Puck_ isn't a reminder?"

Well..." Blaine mused, seating himself comfortably at the table with Kurt glaring all the way. "I told her it would be better and sort of therapeutic if she was with Puck. I told her he was confused why I had broken up with her, too and was mad at me about it so it would be in both their best interest if they could get together and come up with various murder plots to slaughter me in the night. Or something like that."

"I could've helped her do that," Kurt pouted, Blaine laughed at that.

"C'mon, you're not that bummed I'm your partner," he urged, nudging Kurt's shoulder like a puppy wanting his master to throw the ball.

Kurt let out a deep sigh, but resigned himself from the discussion. Blaine didn't want to stop talking about it though.

"I figured with our _budding_ friendship and all, she might find it a little difficult for her ot owrk with you without having miserable, _longing_ thoughts about me."

"Cocky much?" Kurt quipped. "I know for a fact she isn't going to be thinking of you often."

"Hmm," Blaine hummed, not caring one way or another if Britt had found another guy already.

"So," Blaine said loudly after a few minutes of silence. "How's our project comin' along? Partner."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry I haven't updated in a while (a looong while, how many months has it been?) But I had ost my outline with details for each chapter, but I found it a few days ago and I'm trying otget back on track.<strong>

**...**

**You guys don't care, do you? It's ok.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Finally! An update! ...no one cares, lol. **

**Here you are:**

* * *

><p>"Ugh," Kurt groaned when Blaine finally pulled up in front of his house. "Figures."<p>

The house could fit in Kurt's entire house with room left over still. It had long widows and balconies - fitting for a douchebag like Blaine. Blaine rolled his eyes at Kurt. "Shut up, Hummel. You know you'd love to live here."

Kurt huffed, his breath ruffling his gelled-back bangs onto his forehead.

They had taken Blaine's car - there was no way in hell Kurt was getting on that motorcycle - to his house. Kurt was still a bit mad that Brittany would make him work with the hobbit without even thinking about him! How could she have done this to him? Even more weird: Why did Blaine want to be partners with him? God, Kurt didn't even really care actually - he just wanted to go home already.

They walked, well - Kurt trudged - into the overbearingly neat house - like seriously, even Kurt's room wasn't this clean - and then they got to Blaine's room.

Kurt laughed.

"What?" Blaine glared.

"T-this is your room?" Kurt giggled at all the plaid. The Blaine he knew would never live in a dump like this.

Blaine glared at him again and turned on the stereo to block out Kurt's voice. "Wooow, you are so fake."

"And you're an asshole who's obsessed with how tight your clothes are and mainstream music," Blaine replied back icily. "We all can't be perfect."

Kurt sent him a glare before seating himself in a chair. "Well, I don't even know what we're doing here. Brittany and I were almost finished with the project, I'm sure I can get it done myself."

"Aw, but that's not teamwork!" Blaine whined jokingly.

So for the next hour, they worked. And it was...okay, Kurt realized. Turns out Blaine wasn't as big of an airhead as he had thought. Granted, he did get distracted quite a few times when a favorite song would come up or sometimes he wouldn't stop talking about the latest celebrity scandals, but there than that, it wasn't all bad. He knew tons about musical and some foreign films. So for and hour they chatted about what type of music was better, whether the Beatles were overrated (Kurt was indignant that they were the best thing ever, Blaine wasn't so sure), and such.

Blaine said, "Don't you think the Beatles are overrated? I mean, I get what they symbolize and all, but who says they're any better than the fucking Beach Boys or even Simon & Garfunkel."

"Umm..everyone..?" Kurt replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're seriously comparing this century's greatest band to the _Beach Boys_? You've got to be kidding me."

By the time Kurt had to leave, the tension between had dissipated somewhat. Kurt was scared he had actually begun to like the kid.

A stupid thing to be worried about, right? Who doesn't like making friends? It's like being afraid of kittens, really. But Blaine wasn't a kitten. He was a cowardly, but vicious nonetheless dog. He barked at the terrified, innocent kittens and their mommies just because he was a narrow-minded mutt that thought kittens were lazy and didn't like to play games or have fun.

Kurt was a kitten.

Or maybe he used to be. Maybe Blaine the Dog had learned that cats liked eating and playing as much as the next dog. Maybe Blaine the Dog had evolved.

Kurt mentally slapped himself to stop the crazy cat/dog analogies running through his mind.

Blaine was saying something. "I'm sorry, what?"

Blaine chuckled. "I said don't you need to get home? You said you needed to be home by eight." He indicated to the clock above his desk and he was right, it was 7:30 and Kurt's house was pretty far.

"Yeah, I should get going."

Someone called Blaine's name. "Yeah!"

A woman came to the door. She was quite obviously Blaine's mother. "Oh!" She said in surprise at spotting Kurt. "Who's this?"

When Kurt looked over at Blaine, waiting for him to introduce him, he was confused to see Blaine looking nervous. "This is Kurt."

Blaine's mom appraised Kurt right to the tiniest detail, cocking her eyebrow at the tightness of Kurt's clothes. She looked him right int he eye and Kurt knew she knew. Kurt felt kind of scared. He instinctively moved away from Blaine so she didn't get the wrong idea - but Blaine wouldn't let him move from his seat.

"We're doing a project so can you do the fucking hourly checkup another time?" Blaine snapped, obviously not enjoying his mother's presence as much as Kurt.

"Watch your language," Blaine's mother snapped. "You never know what kind of gossip people will start." She stared openly at Kurt with the last comment.

"Kurt isn't like your old, nasty, country club friends who will spread the craziest gossip for no reason at all except that they're bored, okay? He doesn't spread gossip," Blaine ranted, trying to defend Kurt against his mother's viciousness.

He looked at Kurt then. Kurt had his head ducked and was scribbling nonsense on the corner of a piece of paper. He could practically feel the tension radiating off the boy. He was positive Kurt couldn't get any more uncomfortable until his mother opened her mouth again and said:

"I thought it was always the fags who start drama."

Kurt's head snapped up lightning fast, a vicious look on his face. before he could verbally tear Blaine's mother to shreds (Blaine knew he could do it), Blaine immediately got up and advanced on his mother.

"That's it, mom. Get out!' He slammed the door in his mother's falsely-innocent face.

Kurt slumped in his chair, Blaine was leaning against the door. They didn't say anything for a minute.

_'God, what the fuck d you say to someone who was verbally gay-bashed by your own fucking mother? How do you make **that** right?'_ Blaine thought frantically.

He was worried Kurt would go back to hating him. He was worried Kurt would think he was as homophobic as his mother and never speak to him again.

He pitied himself - and felt bad for it. Pitying himself when Kurt was the one who was harmed. Maybe he pitied himself for having a mother like _that_.

"Well... that was sufficiently awkward," Kurt muttered.

Blaine knew he shouldn't have, but he did. He laughed. And so did Kurt. And all the tension defused from the room.

Blaine straightened himself out. "I'm sorry about her. I promise I'm not homophobic like my parents."

Kurt looked at him for a moment before agreeing, "You're not."

"I'm really sorry about her," was all Blaine could say. "I never thought in a million years she'd be that rude to you - and you're not even the first gay person she's met! We even had neighbors once with a gay son - she was never rude to them."

Kurt smiled in a knowing way.

"My guess is that you probably didn't spend much time with your old neighbor. So when she was me - a very obvious gay male- sitting in your room, she couldn't help herself."

Blaine didn't say anything, but he knew Kurt's guess was probably right.

"Can you just," Kurt rambled, still a bit shocked and mad. "Can you just take me home?"

Blaine nodded even though he didn't want Kurt to leave feeling like what he must be feeling.

Kurt seemed to sense what Blaine was thinking so he said," It's okay, Blaine. Really. It's not the first time I've gotten comments like that. And they used to come form people who didn't even know I was gay!"

"Yeah, well. Gay or not, you shouldn't have to deal with that stuff."

Kurt nodded with him sadly. "I know, but you cant change people unless they're willing to learn."

Then why don't you teach them?"

"I'd love to try, but I know I won't get very far. Maybe one day, though. You know what they say: 'God didn't create the world in one day.'"

"I thought you were an atheist."

"I don't," Kurt smiled. "But I believe in people - that they're good once they set aside their ignorance and prejudices."

"Are you a Confucist?" Blaine dead-panned.

Kurt laughed. "No, but you don't wanna spend your life being Legalistic either, right? Always believing the worst in people. That's not right."

They were quiet again as they made their way to Blaine's car. Blaine stopped Kurt at the kitchen, though. "I want my mom to apologize."

Blaine dragged his mother out of the kitchen and planted her firmly in front of Kurt with one word, "Apologize."

Mrs. Anderson looked like she'd rather be doing anything else, but one look from her son told her she better get started with her apology. She crossed her arms and said, "I'm sorry, Kurt."

But she really wasn't. Kurt could tell.

He stepped up to her, her eyes narrowed at him. "Te basier."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you did that!" Blaine laughed, slamming his hands against the wheel. "I'm so glad my mom isn't fluent in French!"<p>

Kurt was glad, too. She had merely knit her eyebrows together in confusion when Blaine had exploded into laughter.

"Yeah..well," Kurt laughed. "Maybe I don't have as much patience for homophobes as I thought."

They laughed all the way back to Kurt's house.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow," Kurt said, when he's at his house.

"Later."

He hadn't been in the house two minutes before the bell rang.

"Okay, come on, Blaine. It wasn't that funn- Oh! Hi, Beatrix!"

Beatrix was looking at him with a peculiar expression. Kurt was worried he'd done something wrong. "Uh...Bea?"

"I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out," she said. "And then I saw you getting out of that with with Anderson at the wheel, laughing like you two were the best of friends."

Kurt didn't like her tone. She was trying to make himfeel guilty. "We have a -"

"Project, yeah yeah," she interrupted impatiently. "But that doesn't suddenly mean he's your 'friend', 'kay?"

Kurt shrank back against her glare. What was she talking about? "Bea, I know you and Blaine - ("So now he's Blaine!") - have your differences, but he doesn't seem like a bad guy! And I don't appreciate you telling me who I can be friends with or not. He even defended me against his homophobic mom for hell's sake!"

"Well that's all great and dandy bu- wait!" Beatrix stopped, shock on her face. "He defended you against mom?"

Kurt nodded.

Beatrix was speechless.

The she said in a whisper - something Kurt wasn't supposed to hear - with a disbelieving huff, "Figures. He can stand up for you, but he can't stand up for himself."

"What?"

Bea realized what she said and quickly schooled her face into nonchalance.

But Kurt wasn't ahivng any of that. He knew something was up, there was something Bea and Blaine were hiding from everyone when they amde comment no one understood except themselves. "What are you talking about 'he can't stand up for himself?'"

Bea looked like she wasn't going to answer and Kurt was getting ready to grill her again whens she said, "Why don't you ask your new best friend? It's a story only he can tell."

* * *

><p><strong>Bullshit. <strong>**After weeks spent writing it, it's still bullshit. But whatevs. ****Maybe I should take writing workshops, y'know - learn how to stop using the same words over and over again. *Sigh***

**Did you get the kitty!Kurt and puppy! Blaine analogy I used? I thought it was pretty brilliant until I typed it up.**

**And I don't know if you can even compare - or if they were in the same genre - the Beatles to Simon and Garfunkel since I didn't live in the 60s so bear with me.**

**Plus, I used Google Translate for "Te Basier." It's supposed to mean "Fuck You," but i know GT isn't always accurate and I'm only in French1, soo...**


	10. Chapter 10

**After a few days (weeks? I honestly do not know) of procrastinating, I finally started on this. Enjoy.**

**Warnings: There's some male-on-female violence (read: some vagina gets bitch-slapped by a penis - and not the sexy way). But it's only a little and not that graphic so if that stuff makes you squeamish, don't worry. It'll just be an onomatopoeia. **

**Also, un-characteristic anger and stuff that will not make sense to you guys until we get to the end of the story so...40+ chapters. And we're on chapter 10...Just remember that. You can back out of this story right now.**

* * *

><p>"Blaine!"<p>

Blaine picked his head up from his desk to see Kurt calling him. He put his hand up in a wave before plopping his head back down onto his arms.

Kurt rolled his eyes in annoyance and pushed roughly against the half-asleep boy's shoulder, exerting more force than he though as Blaine howled in pain as his chin clipped against the rough edge of the desk. "Ow! The fuck, Hummel?"

"Shhh!" A female classmate scolded fiercely. Kurt glared at her before saying, "What was Bea talking about?"

"Huh?" Blaine replied, rubbing against his skinned chin, hissing when his (really overgrown) stubble rubbed unwelcomingly over the sensitive skin.

"We kinda had a fight when you dropped me off at home the other day and she got really pissed at me about being like...your 'friend' or some shit. And when I told her about your mom she said something about you that I really want to know about," Kurt said all in one breath, trying to gloss over most of it as quick as possible.

Blaine stopped rubbing at his face for a second, wondering exactly what his sister had spilt. When he voiced his thoughts out loud, he was not happy with the answer. "She said **_what_**?"

Their classmates turned to stare at them, eyebrows raised in a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing-shut-the-fuck-up kind of way. Mr. Syme wasn't very happy either. "Problem, boys?"

They both shook their heads.

Blaine gave Kurt a look when everyone turned away finally, one that clearly stated "go on, tell me more." Kurt sighed, his exasperation evident in his voice, "She said something about you not being able to stick up for yourself - although I don't know why she would say that 'cause you're mother was rude to me about me being gay, but whatever."

_"Shhh!"_ Kurt sent a glare to the girl and flipped her off for good measure.

"And she didn't tell you what she meant?" Blaine probed, his brows stitched in an emotion Kurt couldn't out a name to.

"No, she kept on avoiding the subject whenever I asked her. Said it wasn't her place to tell."

Really, Kurt hadn't been planning on coming to Blaine with this even though Bea had said to. It had been a terrible goose chase. She hadn't avoided him directly, but she would change the subject whenever he brought it up. What was the big deal anyway? Kurt was getting really pissed and tired. He didn't even know why he wanted to know so badly. Maybe because he hoped it would turn out to be something that totally changed the way everyone looked at Blaine or put Bea's and Blaine's relationship into perspective or something.

"Damn right it isn't her fucking place!" Blaine yelled viciously. He turned away from Kurt to the girl sitting next to him. "And don't you shush me again or I'll rip off your fucking finger," he said to the girl. She dropped her mouth open and turned away from them, mumbling some shit about 'boys not being chivalrous' and 'douche-bags' and 'whatever happened to society?'

Kurt slumped in his seat and - although he felt discouraged - whispered, "So..can you tell me what all that's about or...?"

"Huh?" Blaine looked up from the hole he was burning into the side of the girl's head. "No."

"What? Why?"

Blaine sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. The skinned part of his chin stinging viciously as he picked at the scab that was forming there.

Blaine knew why. But damn if Kurt ever found out what Blair had meant. He was sure Kurt would support him and shit, but weighing Kurt - one person - against the thousands of other people who'd give him hell. Ha! Just no. Not in this life.

And really, it didn't even matter that Blair had said that to him in the shady way that she did, but still..the fact that she would even utter a single word about it..just - ugh. Like fuck if Blaine wasn't going to teach her a lesson about keeping her mouth shut.

He stood up without a second thought, his vengeful mind already planning out what he would dealt Blair.

"Mr. Anderson, sit back down!"

Blaine flipped off Mr. Syme and slammed the door closed with aloud bang that resonated through probably the entire school. Kurt thumped his head backwards onto Blaine's desk and heaved a huge sigh.

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><p>"..to get to the other side!" Two-Bit coughed out hysterically between his laughter.<p>

"Two-Bit," Steve muttered, taking a sip from his Coke can. "You are a kleptomaniac. Stick to that. Not jokes. You'll be doing the world a favor."

"What?" Two-Bit giggled, waving his Coke can crazily at Steve. "You're crazy man. My jokes are hilarious! This joke will be famous!"

"Yeah..if the people of tomorrow are idiots, then definitely," Darry said, rolling his eyes at the crazy boy. All the guys laughed at that when Two-Bit glared at him. "You shut your mouth, Darrel."

"'Ey, the truth's the truth, man," Soda said, smirking. "Good news is you'll probably a huge success in the future."

Two-Bit advanced angrily at Soda as the other guys laughed hysterically. "Take it back, Sodapop!"

Darry stopped laughing and turned around, hearing something. "Shit. It's Anderson."

"The fuck he want?" Ponyboy said, dragging his cigarette from his mouth as a motorcycle zoomed into the parking space in front of the shop.

"Maybe he wantsa hear some jokes!" Two-Bit cheered happily. He took a long gulp from his soda can before crushing it to the ground and walking towards the shorter boy descending from the bike. "Hey, Anderson, buddy! What's up, man? Haven't seen you 'round her for a while."

"Maybe 'cause you're boss banned me?" Blaine offered in disgust as Two-Bit wiped a long trail of the sugary acid he had been drinking the moment before. "Where's Blair?"

"Huh? Oh, Blair?" Two-Bit slurred. Blaine suspected he was drunk and his suspicion was confirmed when he smelled Two-Bit's putrid breath. God, in the middle of the day, too? Classy. "She's inside. _ Blair!_"

"What!" A faint voice yelled back. Blair's eyes went wide when she spotted her brother standing in the lot. "Shit."

"You fucking bitch!" Blaine screamed at the shorter girl when he caught sight of her. Blair squealed in fear at the outraged anger on his face and ran like mad to her office, locking the door swiftly behind her. Blaine growled when his fists connected against the unrelenting wood. He took a deep breath and steadied himself before turning back to the door, the door with his traitor sister's name written on it on a plaque - as if she was something _special_, puh! - and slammed his entire left body against it.

The wood cracked a bit under the force of Blaine's weight, but otherwise didn't budge. Blaine drew himself together, barely flinching at the pain running through his left shoulder, and ran at the door again. This time it relented a bit less. The cheap wood broke off in the middle, allowing Blaine to slip his hand inside to unlock the door from the inside. The door flew open with a swish.

Blair gulped from where she was sitting at her desk. God, why the fuck did she have such a big mouth. If she just knew how to keep her trap shut, Blaine wouldn't have come all the way here to kick her brains out. She stood up fast when Blaine finally got to her, raising her hand in a pleading motion, "Blaine, please, liste-"

_Thwack._

Blair's breath stalled in her throat. Her eyes were wide open in shock as her neck flipped to the side from the unyielding force of Blaine's fist against her smooth cheek. Tears sprang into her eyes as her throat worked over a sob as she raised a shaking hand to her quickly swelling face.

Blaine didn't miss a beat though. "You fucking bitch! Who do you think you are? You think just because you live on the East side that you're better than everyone else? That because you live in a run-down apartment and work at a fucking gas station - or as you put it, 'work through your way in life' - you're completely better than anyone who owns a huge house or can afford a car? Well newsflash! You're nothing but a withe-trash whore!"

Blair removed her hand from her cheek, sniffing quietly to keep her tears in check. She wiped the spit from the corners of her mouth as she turned her golden-brown eyes - same color as Blaine's, but if you'd been standing in the same room as them at that moment, you'd never see the resemblance between Blaine's spiteful gaze and Blair's dejected one - onto Blaine. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, rolling her eyes to the ceiling of her little office, begging the her tears to not betray her, not right now, _please_.

"Why are you so mad?" She said in a quiet voice, sounding like a scolded kindergartener. "It's not like I said anything mountain-moving enough for him to even suspect-"

"That doesn't matter," Blaine, his voice not getting any calmer or his demeanor any less angry. "What matters is that you had the fucking _nerve_ to say anything about it. Who gave you the right?"

"Listen, it's not like I spilled everything, okay? He doesn't know what happened that night or what happened with-"

_"Shut up!"_

Blair closed her mouth instinctively, knowing better than to keep on speaking. Blaine was rubbing at something on his chin, looked like a scab of some sort, as he paced around the little room. Finally, Blair spoke up again. "Why don't you just stop being a little bitch about it, huh? Just admit you're gay - "

"I'm not fucking gay!" Blaine growled, circling back around other, his fists clenching and unclenching again and again. Blair felt her bruised cheek sting.

"Really? I certainly got a different expression when I came home to see your mouth around Jeremiah's cock," Blair smirked, ignoring her boundaries because she was having too much fun reminding Blaine of that day.

Blaine's arm shot out to grab her's in a crushing grip. "Shut your fucking mouth, Blair. You acted of your own accord that day. Whatever happened was your fault! What you did to yourself was your doing."

"You're the one who started everything. What else was I supposed to do? Leave you to be mom and dad's meal? I had to do something!"

"So now you're blaming me for - "

"Being gay? Oh no, brother," Blair smiled superiorily. "I'm blaming you for not having a spine. No backbone. Nada. Weird since you're supposed to like dick, but I'm the only one out of the two of us _who has balls!_"

Blaine fisted his hands in his hair, struggling not to sock his sister in the other cheek. "Well I'm sorry not all of us can be as daring, as brave as you. I'm sorry not everyone can be Blair Anderson."

"If they were, they'd be fucked for life," Blair laughed. She turned serious again. "Look, Blainers, I'm really sorry I let that slip. But c'mon dude, enough is enough sometimes. When are you finally gonna be happy with yourself?"

Blaine bit his bottom lip so hard it was at the point of his teeth breaking the skin. He blinked his eyes several times to keep the tears and redness out.

"Blainey, when are you going to come out?"

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><p><strong>HIGH FIVES ALL AROUND! :D I finally finished this chapter! The next one will be VERY short. Probably a couple paragraphs - I don't know, we'll see.<strong>

**I'd like to thank SodapopGirl17 for her incredibly sweet review. It encouraged me to not procrastinate on this and get it done as soon as possible so...thank you :)**

**..and yes, this is a coming out story..well, ish. There's LOADS of drama supplied in this. Stick with me through the end!**

**One more thing, Santana and Brittany and most of the other characters beside Kurt, Blaine and the other main characters will be put on the backburner for now.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Oh, took me only about two class periods to do this (no shit, I wrote this during school). Good news: I've already started on the next chapter! :D**

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><p>Blaine kicked up the dune of sand accumulated of sand, dirt, and rocks and shuts his eyes tight as the fragments showered over him. Some of the fragments got caught in the bandage placed over his chin, the little particles rubbed over the scab there harshly. He hissed but didn't make a move to remove the bandage, just let the rocks cut open his healing skin.<p>

Finally, after a couple minutes, he expelled a huge breath and crouched to gather up the dirt. He'd been doing this for an hour or so, give or take two. His hands had scratches from the jagged, sharp edges of the particularly pointy rocks he came across, and sand and dirt were caught underneath his fingernails. His clothing wasn't faring that well either, being covered in layers of thick dust. He raised his hand and wiped the sweat off his forehead, leaving a wet streak of dirty earth across his skin.

He sighed heavily and plopped the rest of his body down so that he's sitting on his newly reconstructed dune.

He calls it "Reflection," because that's how his life felt right now. A reflection of the dune made of crap from the dirty earth because, really, his life was made out of crap.

After his encounter with Blair, he had driven back home. His parents were both there for once. He cast them one glance as he parked his motorcycle in the garage and didn't look back at them when he walked past them at the front door and ran down the cul-de-sac and disappeared into the other streets. His parents didn't look back either.

_'Fuck my fucking life,'_ he thought to himself as he let the autumn chill reduce his skin to goose-flesh. _'Why does that bitch have to always be right?'_

He reared his foot up into the air angrily and slammed it down on the ground hard, letting more dust and dirt fly up around him and shower him in their filthiness. They landed in soft plops back to the ground, but the dust settled in the air, creating a kaleidoscopic essence effect with the sun making each dust particle shine brightly in his eyes.

Blaine waved the dust away, coughing as they traveled up his nose and into his lungs. _'Is this what people with lung cancer feel like?'_ He thought as his tries failed and the dust accumulated and blinded some of his vision. _'Maybe I should stop smoking.'_

The things Blair had said to him about coming out, they confused him. Just like his motherfucking sexuality. How could he even think about "coming out" when he didn't even know which turned him on more: dicks or fannies, tits or abs.

He didn't much feel like figuring it out either. He was too afraid of the answer. On one hand, if he was gay his parents would disown him and he'd probably lose all respect he had gained in this town. If he was straight...well, then his parents would definitely be happy - and Blaine didn't really like making them happy. The most he knew at this point was that he hadn't really found a girl who he'd like to have sex with. Brittany was okay, but not for him.

Plus, he'd only seen about less than a handful of cute guys, but that didn't mean anything. Hell, he knew Puck was pretty good-looking, but that didn't mean he wanted to stick it in him. Ew. Sex with Puckerman. Blaine shuddered.

He remembered when he was in junior high and didn't show interest in girls much - his parents had gotten worried. They pushed neighbor's daughters at him, invited them over for dinner or "play-dates" (he had to remind them constantly that he wasn't a pre-schooler). He had gotten so fed up that he finally just asked one of the random girls out.

You should've seen the look on his parent's faces and how their previously-believed, forever scowl turned morphed into grins. After that, he went through a series of girls, effectively earning him the title of "player." But girls still didn't stay away. It was as if they believed the feeling of having their hearts broken by Blaine Anderson was a privilege on the best of girls could obtain.

Blaine sighed as he turned over a muddy rock to expose the worms clinging to its bottom. They wriggled and snaked their bodies as they were exposed to the sun's rays. Blaine felt sick watching the slimy, squirmy, tube-like, thin bodies. He flipped the rock back over and poured dirt over it for good measure.

He wiped his hands on his jeans and lowered his body backwards until he was facing the six o' clock sun in the sky, his head resting not-so comfortably on a mound of dirt. He thought of what his peers would say if he said he was gay.

Puck and the guys would freak. They'd want him off the team so they wouldn't be exposed to "fag germs," but he knew he wouldn't have to worry about that. Coach Bieste couldn't kick him off the squad if she wanted an actual chance of winning. Besides, she didn't care about trivial things like sexuality. She was way too work-oriented to give a fuck who her boys were fucking.

Brittany would probably be in awe. She'd probably call him a unicorn and force him to have sleepovers with her, complete with makeovers and pillow-fights.

His parents would...

Blaine skipped over that thought.

Kurt would be understanding. Too understanding. Blaine felt queasy thinking about it.

Blair would be smug. She'd probably take credit. She liked winning, the bitch. Blaine smiled a little.

Blaine suddenly felt guilty for hitting her, Bot because she was a girl and it was socially unacceptable to do that to girls. No, Blair could handle getting hit, she was a tough girl. She probably got tougher living on the East side. He felt guilty because she was his sister. You don't just hit your sister. No matter how much you hate her, how much you'd love to never see her again - you just don't do that shit.

It was strange the he felt guilty about hitting the girl who was trying to ruin his life at every turn, but would jump at the opportunity to hit the father who took care of him if he had the chance. Strange. Totally not right. But Blaine didn't like his father much, so whatever.

Blaine got up off the ground, groaning all the way as rocks made scratches deep enough to draw bits of blood on his palm. He was entirely covered in grime and dust and little insects, even in his hair.

Thinking about this whole ordeal wasn't doing him much good, he decided. He need to get out of those thoughts. What better solution than to drink your troubles away?

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><p><strong>I know this is pointless, but I just wanna saw that in the show, I honestly believe his parents are good people and love Blaine. I only made them not accepting for this fic. I'll continue to believe their okay with Blaine being gay until I'm proven wrong.<strong>


	12. Chapter 12, Part One

**You have no idea how sorry I am for not updating for MONTHS. I feel so bad, but Writer's Block hit like an avalanche and before I knew it I was stuck in the middle of this chapter with no way of continuing.**

**Since it's summer, it would make sense if you expected more updates but alas! I have SUMMER SCHOOL! Don't worry, I'm not bad child. I need to get ahead (look at me, thinkin' about mah futcha!). But I PROMISE I will try harder. :)**

**This chapter was gonna be longer, but I got stuck so the next part will be coming soon! _SHIT, I just jinxed it didn't I? _**

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><p>"I do have to admit although he is much cuter in real life, his singing capabilities are a bit - ugh, hell - very, <em>very<em> limited! My ears felt like chalkboard and his voice was nails scratching angrily across my slate surface."

Kurt smiled and nodded along with whatever mean thing Rachel was saying about a new singer. She, Finn, and her parents had come to the Hudmels for Thanksgiving. Rachel, having a schedule of what holidays she would spend with which family (her's or Finn's), had declared Thanksgiving to be a united holiday. Kurt knew he would one day rue the day he befriended the crazy girl and today was definitely that day.

_'God help me,'_ Kurt thought, rubbing his temples as Rachel shrilled about her New York experiences even though she knew how jealous it made Kurt. Kurt had half a mind to think she was doing it on purpose to shove in his face. Maybe it made her feel superior, knowing about something Kurt didn't since they'd shared their small list of experiences.

Kurt pushed away the thought when Finn lumbered into the room, giving Rachel a quick kiss before plopping down in Burt's armchair and flipping the TV channel to a football game. Kurt and Rachel gave each other and exasperated look, rolling their eyes in unison at their very own Frankenstein's Monster grunting away at the TV set.

"So enough about me - for now. What's new in the spectacular life of Kurt Hummel?" Rachel arrange her body facing the taller boy, supporting her chin with both fists and giving the air of somebody interested in what he had to say.

"Well it's no New York - ("Of course not") - but this town isn't completely boring. There's enough drama between the East and West sides to put most soaps to shame."

Rachel's mouth popped open in awe, her eyebrows shooting up as well. "Yeah I heard about that," Finn piped in, speaking around his mouthful of chips. "Apparently some kids died."

"WHAT!" Kurt and Rachel's unified screams of shock were drowned out by the sound of the doorbell. Kurt gaped back and forth between the doorbell and his confused-looking brother, between finding out more about just what the fuck his brother was talking about and being a good host. In the end, his manners won out.

"Hey, Blaine."

Blaine smiled nervously, his hand working up a knot in his gelled-back hair. He combed the strands straight and wiped his slick fingers on his jeans. His armpits were drenched, half from nerves and half from the fact that the idiot was wearing a leather jacket during the hot day. For Fall, it was still very warm.

Kurt closed the door behind him, massaging his shoulder reassuringly as he led him into the house. He had convinced Blaine to join him and his family (plus the Berry's) for Thanksgiving dinner when he discovered that his parents didn't have a tradition or any plans set for the holiday. And Kurt just couldn't have the kid going to some bar to waste away the week they had off.

Rachel was eying Blaine speculatively, trying to figure out his angle because she knew Kurt would never hang out with someone who wore a lethal amount of hair gel and leather at the same time. It was just a not a good look ("Makes you look too shiny," Kurt would tell her).

Finn eyes were bulging out of his head and he gestured wildly behind the short boy's back at Kurt. Kurt nodded at his brother reassuringly, yes he knew this was the guy who flipped them off. Finn's arms shot quickly down and his face took the look of boredom as Blaine turned to say hello to him.

_'This is going to be a long day,'_ Blaine internally groaned.

And it didn't get better either.

He was given a brief tour of the house and then Kurt (thankfully) directed him to the dining room to wait for dinner with Berry's dads. Blaine was thankful that he got away from Rachel's non-stop ranting about a state he wasn't remotely interested in. Like seriously, if you wanna make friends or have a conversation that doesn't leave you looking like a douche, talk about something you both like. But then again, hearing the short hobbit (even shorter than him) was a better prospect than sitting awkwardly, albeit quietly, with her two gay dads. Her two gay dads that were eyeing him curiously in a way that made his skin crawl uncomfortably. They didn't seem to make a motion of making conversation anytime soon.

Blaine finally decided to break the ice. "So, you got dragged into this dinner thing, too huh?"

Hiram and Leroy chuckled loudly and smiled kindly at Blaine at the remark. Blaine felt his nerves calm a bit and he managed to smile back at them.

"Yes, actually," Hiram answered warmly, the kind smile on his face a contrast to the awkward silence they were in before. "Our little girl insisted that since we're all practically family now, we should celebrate holidays together." He rolled his eyes adoringly.

Leroy nodded in agreement before bringing his head down closer to Blaine as if he had a secret to say, and whispered, "That's code for Hiram not being able to resist her pouty face." He bugged out his eyes and pointed with his head at his husband.

"Hey!" Hiram elbowed his husband in mock indignation, glaring at him amusedly. "If I remember correctly, who was the first one who succumbed?"

"I have no idea what he's talking about," Leroy rolled his eyes and made the motion for crazy with his hands. "Maybe he's had a little too much wine if you know what I'm sayin'."

Blaine watched curious eyes as Hiram and Leroy joked around with eachother. His eyes locking in on the way they touched eachother. They looked...happy. Not at all like the closet-restrained, basket cases that had come and gone through the town.

And how lucky for Kurt, too, that he had them to look up to. Their happiness to look forward. Blaine couldn't help but feel a little resentment towards his friend.

Leroy pushed his husbands hands from where they were attacking his tickle spots. When he finally succeeded, he turned back to Blaine, his head cocking at the dejected look on the boy's face. "Blaine? You okay buddy?"

"Hu-?" Blaine mumbled intelligently when he came out of his thoughts. Leroy gave him a warm smile, his hand reaching out towards Blaine's.

"There seems to be an awful lot going on through your mind," Leroy said softly. "And I am one for encouraging deep thought and all, but your's does not seem like your getting much out of it besides making yourself miserable."

"It's nothing," Blaine quickly reassured the older man.

"Oh, come on," Hiram prodded. "The foundations of the Berry family are Trust, Honesty, and Dance. And since the last one is out, it looks like you're going to have to trust with your honesty."


End file.
